#keith: this is kind of fun actually

[klanced]

Do you think Keith is afraid of five nights at Freddy's

I think Keith would be quietly thrilled by the opportunity to mutually hunt something

[waugh-bao]

James Corden and Rod Stewart discuss the latter’s famous hairstyle (2015)

[brattyfics]

Not So Secret Santa

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Summary: Eve Dillard’s favorite holiday has lost its sparkle since a painful breakup, leaving her to navigate another lonely Christmas. But when a familiar snow globe from a secret admirer resurfaces, she’s drawn back into the past. The gift leads her to reconnect with Terry Richmond, a high school friend and long-lost crush who’s returned from military service. As their reunion stirs up old feelings, Eve is reminded of the magic of the season and the possibility of rediscovered love.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Holiday Rom-Com Coded

Word Count: 11K+

2024

Christmas had always been Eve Dillard’s favorite time of year.

The cold winter nights were perfect for curling up with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and fresh pine wrapping around Eve like a warm hug. Dressed in her favorite cozy pajamas, she'd let the crackling gas fireplace set the mood while losing herself in the comfort of holiday classics. Christmas wasn’t just a season for Eve—it was part of her identity. Her parents had named her after the holiday, and her siblings carried that same festive spirit in their names: Joy, Noelle, and their baby brother, Emmanuelle.

In the Dillard house, Christmas was magic.

Her mother, Diane Dillard, always turned every room into a wonderland, filling it with sparkling ornaments and twinkling lights. The family hosted a Christmas Eve party that felt like a reunion, with friends and family gathered around a table full of treats: rich red velvet cake, fudgy brownies, and the smoothest frosted pound cake you could imagine. Eve and her siblings would stay up late decorating gingerbread houses, listening to the grown folks talk. Those late nights became a tradition that grounded her in the best kind of holiday joy.

But after Eve turned twenty-five, things started to shift.

Five Christmases ago, her on-again, off-again high school sweetheart, Keith, had shattered her heart. She’d tried to move on, ventured back into the dating scene, but each attempt ended in disappointment. With each passing holiday season, dating felt like an even more hopeless endeavor. The men in her age range were either already in relationships or still out here playing games with women’s hearts. Unfortunately, Christmas had become a cold reminder of what she didn’t have. 

Her siblings were all paired off—her two sisters had married solid, loving men and were chasing toddlers around the house. Even her baby brother had popped the question and was planning his wedding. And her parents? Their love was still as strong as ever, evident in the flirtatious teasing and laughter that echoed through the house whenever they bickered. There she was, the odd one out, especially during the holidays, when it seemed like everyone else was wrapped up in their own love stories.

Now, Christmas felt like a series of awkward work parties and forced smiles, nothing like the fun she remembered. If it wasn’t her aunties grilling her about meeting someone new, it was her cousins teasing her about her “bad luck” with men. The office celebrations, planned weeks ahead so coworkers could celebrate before their holiday leave, left the season feeling drawn out and exhausting. By the time Christmas Day arrived, the festivities felt stale, and Eve found herself just going through the motions, making polite conversation while secretly wishing she could fast-forward to January.

This year, things had gotten even more vexing—Eve had drawn Malik from IT for Secret Santa. Malik wasn’t bad to look at, but he spent more time flirting with every woman in the office than actually doing his job. His antics were enough to make Eve roll her eyes, turning the already-dreaded gift exchange into yet another holiday hurdle. Eventually, she settled on a simple set of pens and a plain notebook—safe, practical, and totally forgettable.

Even as she wrapped the gift, Eve felt the weight of monotony. With no new work crushes or dating prospects to look forward to, Eve’s workdays blurred together—endless paperwork, the same beige-gray office walls, and another holiday season passing in a haze of office chatter. It was easy to tune it all out, to just go through the motions. But then the day came—the day for the office gift exchange

“This one’s for Eve!” Ms. Ruby, the vibrant office manager, called out with her signature enthusiasm. At a proud seventy years young, Ms. Ruby was a force of nature, always stepping into the office with bold, jazzy outfits that matched her lively personality. “A gift from my husband, going on forty-something years strong!” she’d say with a wink whenever someone admired her latest accessory. Mr. Charles was forever splurging on a new costume jewelry set or a fresh pair of colorful shoes, each piece a reflection of his love for her style.

Eve rose from her seat, accepting the green gift bag with a polite smile. Maybe she’d never have a husband of forty-something years who appreciated her inside and out, but at least someone had remembered her favorite color. As she pulled back the tissue paper, her fingers brushed against something smooth and solid nestled inside.

When she lifted the delicate snow globe, Eve’s breath caught in her throat. Inside was a Black princess, a tiny crown perched on her head, surrounded by glittering snowflakes—just like the one she’d had as a child but lost during her senior year of high school.

"Oh my god!" Eve exclaimed, her voice filled with surprise and joy. She looked around the room, eyes sparkling. "Who got me this? I love it!" Her gaze swept across her coworkers, but everyone just shrugged, their smiles barely containing their amusement. Eve's eyes locked with Ms. Ruby’s, who wore a knowing smirk, as if she were in on some secret.

Whoever had chosen this gift had clearly gone to great lengths—it hadn’t been made in nearly twenty years. Who knew her well enough to find something so perfect? Who cared enough to hunt down something so meaningful? She dug through the bag for a card, hoping to find a name, but there was only a blank tag.

She shook the globe, and her eyes lit up as the snowflakes swirled around the princess. But then, tucked underneath it, a flash of highlighter pink caught her eye. She picked up the sticky note, the handwriting oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place it right away: 

I hope you like this gift. It was difficult to find, but seeing you smile will be worth it. From your secret admirer.

Eve scanned the room again, but no one said a word—not even Malik, who was wearing that same smug grin of his. Have I ever seen his handwriting? she wondered, cringing at the thought of him being her secret Santa. Still, the gift was too thoughtful to dismiss, and she couldn't help but feel touched. “Whoever did this, thank you so much,” she said, her voice sincere. “This is honestly the best gift I could’ve gotten.”

The mystery lingered with Eve throughout the rest of the day. She couldn’t help but keep glancing around, half-expecting someone to fess up about being her Secret Santa, but no one did. Eventually, she wandered over to Ruby’s desk, hoping for a clue.

“That defeats the whole point of Secret Santa, baby,” Ms. Ruby said with a laugh, shaking her head as she shuffled through some papers.

Eve leaned casually against the back of Ruby's ergonomic chair. "It's only a secret 'til the gift’s out the bag, Ms. Ruby," she teased. “You already went and told everybody else’s Secret Santa. What’s so special about mine?”

Ms. Ruby glanced up from her stack of paperwork, her eyes twinkling with mischief before she moved quicker than Eve could have expected, swatting her lightly on the behind with the pile of papers.

“Ms. Ruby!” Eve yelped, jumping to the side, a surprised laugh escaping her lips.

“I told you to leave me be so I can get some work done!” Ms. Ruby shooed her away, her lips curling into a mock-serious frown. Eve didn’t have to look twice to know the older woman was more about looking busy than actually doing any paperwork. Working was just her way of staying active—keeping her mind sharp, like the rest of her.

As Eve turned to walk away, she grinned, rolling her eyes. “That woman’s a whole mess,” she murmured under her breath, her lips curling in affection despite herself.

Thoughts of her mysterious Secret Santa stayed with Eve the whole way home, nagging at her while she threw together a quick dinner and cleaned the kitchen. She couldn’t help but replay the moment she’d opened the snow globe, trying to figure out who had picked it out for her. But by the time she’d showered and got comfortable for the evening, her mind had wandered to other things—like what outfit she was going to rock on Christmas Day. She was ready to stunt a little, show her cousins what being childless did for her pockets and her closet.

By the time Eve got to work the next morning, she’d managed to push the mystery to the back of her mind. That is, until she sat down at her desk and spotted another sticky note with that same, familiar handwriting:

I’m glad you liked the gift. I knew it’d bring that beautiful smile of yours to life. If you're wondering who's behind it, I’d love to show you. Meet me for lunch at 1:00 PM—there’s a new spot two blocks down, and I’ve got us a table. Hope you can make it, Eve.

Eve bit her bottom lip, torn between caution and curiosity. Meeting someone like this, all wrapped in mystery, didn’t exactly feel safe or smart. Why all the secrecy? Why leave notes instead of just saying it out loud? How did they know about her smile without even being there? Could her Secret Santa have been watching from the shadows all along, without ever revealing themselves? The thought sent a chill down her spine. But in the end, curiosity won out.

Eve made sure to let Ms. Ruby know where she’d be and when to expect her back. Ms. Ruby’s knowing smile eased her nerves just enough as she stepped out into the brisk winter air, the chill nipping at her cheeks. 

As she walked to the restaurant, Eve quickly texted her siblings the details—just to be safe. She wasn’t taking any chances, especially with the mystery hanging over her head.

When she stepped inside the restaurant, her gloved hands folded nervously in front of her, she took in the cozy ambiance. Soft R&B holiday classics played in the background, and the space glowed with candlelight and pine-scented garlands. Couples leaned in close, lost in their own world. Eve hesitated, feeling self-conscious standing alone at the entrance, until a young waitress approached her with a warm, welcoming smile.

"Are you Eve?"

Eve blinked, startled for a moment. "Yeah, that's me."

"Come on, I’ll show you to your table."

With a mix of curiosity and just a touch of apprehension, Eve followed the waitress further into the restaurant. “Where are we headed?” she asked, doing her best to keep her nerves in check.

“There’s a private area in the back,” the waitress replied with a friendly smile, leading her behind a velvet curtain. Despite the uneasy flutter in her chest, Eve pushed her doubts aside. She wasn’t about to turn back now after coming this far.

On the other side of the curtain, a single table was set up in the center of a cozy, golden-lit room. Sitting there, dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and slacks, was a man she hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. His rich honey-brown skin practically glowed in the soft light, and those blue-green eyes of his, sparkling with that same familiar warmth, made her heart skip a beat.

“Terry?” she whispered, the disbelief clear in her voice.

He stood, tall as she remembered, and before she knew it, she was in his arms. She jumped up, and he caught her easily, holding her close as she clung tightly to his neck

“It’s been way too long!” Eve exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as Terry lifted her off her feet, giving her a playful shake before setting her back down. The little girl inside her couldn’t help but squeal.

"Far too long," Terry agreed, his eyes softening as he met her gaze, holding her just a moment longer than necessary before gently lowering her back to the ground.

Eve slapped his arm, still grinning. "What are you doing here? When did you get back?"

“You haven’t changed a bit, Eve—still running that mouth a mile a minute,” Terry teased, his grin wide as he motioned for her to take a seat. Eve sank into the chair, but her gaze stayed locked on him, still struggling to believe he was really here.

They’d been close since childhood, but after graduation, Terry had enlisted in the Marines, and keeping in touch had been impossible. First, it was radio silence during boot camp, then sporadic updates as he climbed the ranks. Meanwhile, she’d dived into her studies, focused on finishing college and earning her degree, though thoughts of him had never been far from her mind. Every time she tried to reach out, something always got in the way.

Eve found herself momentarily frozen, taking in the scent of his cologne and the sharp look of his neatly styled short Afro. "You look good, Terry," she said, though the word "good" didn’t even come close to doing him justice. He’d filled out in all the right places, his frame broader than she remembered. It was clear the Marines had only made him more disciplined, more focused. The tall, lean teenager she remembered had transformed into a man who was clearly all grown up, his muscular build a testament to the years he'd spent shaping himself.

"You look even better." His gaze swept over her, making her pulse race. Eve couldn’t help the flutter in her chest, but she quickly shook it off. She’d grown into her own as well—filled out, gotten more comfortable in her skin, and her acne-prone days were long behind her. But this was Terry. He didn’t see her that way, and she was far too grown to be stuck on an old crush.

"So, for real, what brings you back home?" she asked, forcing herself to focus on the present.

"I'm done with the service now. Retired," Terry said with a shrug. "Figured it was time to come back home, settle down, and start a new chapter. Everyone I care about is here, so it felt like the right place to make it happen."

"Your mama must be over the moon!"

“Over the moon is an understatement,” he chuckled, the edges of his voice softening. “She wanted to throw me a big welcome-back party, but I told her I’d rather reconnect with folks one-on-one.”

"Well, I’m glad I made the list," Eve grinned. "I ran into your mom a few weeks ago, and she didn’t say anything about you coming back!"

Terry smirked. "She didn’t know yet. Can’t give her too much notice, or she’ll have the whole block—and probably folks from here to California—waiting to meet me at the airport." He chuckled, the sound rich and familiar, making Eve feel that comforting pull of home she didn’t even realize she’d been missing.

Eve burst out laughing. "My mama’s the same way! I hear her on the phone all the time, talking about me like, ‘Evie’s still single, y’all; I guess she’s waiting on Jesus.’" She mimicked her mother’s voice so spot-on it had Terry cracking up.

“What happened with ol’ boy—what was his name again?” Terry teased, pretending to forget. Eve shook her head, rolling her eyes.

“You mean Keith? We called it quits a while ago.”

“What happened? I thought y’all were gonna be the next Barack and Michelle?”

Eve laughed, the humor hitting her differently now. “Life happened. It just wasn’t meant to be, and I’m good with that.” She wasn’t about to dive into the gory details. She’d healed and moved on. Keith was a chapter she’d closed long ago.

“You were way too good for him, anyway.” Eve’s heart skipped a beat, and she wasn’t prepared for the warmth that spread through her at his words.

She raised an eyebrow, suddenly piecing everything together. “Wait a minute—don’t tell me you were the one behind those secret admirer notes?”

“Guilty as charged,” Terry said with a grin. “Figured I owed you a snow globe after all these years.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You took my snow globe? I looked everywhere for that thing!”

“I didn’t take it,” Terry admitted, a guilty grin tugging at his lips. “But I did break it.”

Eve gasped, her hand flying to her chest as though he’d confessed to a grand crime. “You broke it?”

“It was an accident!” Terry quickly added, his chuckles softening the blow. “Your dad called you downstairs, and I got a little too close to the shelf. Next thing I know—glass shattering, glitter flying—everything was on the floor.”

Eve laughed, shaking her head, already picturing her younger self stomping around in frustration. But now, the whole situation seemed almost too ridiculous not to laugh about. “How’d you manage to hide it from me?”

“I cleaned it up quick and grabbed a towel from your bathroom. It was fine—except for the glitter. That stuff was everywhere—on the floor, on my hands. But since you never said anything, I figured I got away with it.”

“Terry Richmond,” Eve said with a playful squint, “You’re a whole mess!”

“But I made it right, didn’t I?” His smile was a slow, satisfied curve, his blue-green eyes sparkling with the joy of being so close to her again. “And when I saw that look on your face—”

“Wait, hold up,” Eve interrupted, her eyes narrowing playfully, “You were there yesterday?”

"Guess I forgot to mention it. We're coworkers now. I’m the head of security," He leaned back, his eyes locking with hers. "Been around, making sure everything’s tight," he added with a half-smile. He didn’t mention how he'd been keeping an eye on her from the cameras, just to make sure she was safe from all those corporate threats: staples, paper cuts, and heavy boxes…you know, the dangerous stuff. "It might sound crazy, but I couldn’t come at you until I knew I had made things right between us."

“That damn snow globe,” she mused, a smile tugging at her lips. Who would’ve thought her favorite childhood trinket would be the thing that brought her favorite person back? She reached out, taking his hands across the table. “I would’ve been glad to see you, no matter what.” He squeezed her hands, remembering the nervous flutter in his chest when he’d placed his bid on that snow globe. He wanted her to have it, and he didn’t hold back. “I know. But you deserve that—and so much more.”

Eve rolled her eyes playfully, though there was a flicker of something else in her gaze. “Cut it out with the compliments,” she teased, leaning back in her seat. “I’m gonna be walking around with a big head at this rate.”

“You already got a big—”

“—Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Terrence.”

They slipped into a comfortable rhythm, their banter flowing like it had never skipped a beat. It felt like no time had passed at all, like he’d never left and she’d never hidden the soft spot she’d always had for him. It was clear he still didn’t realize how deep her feelings for him ran. Still, something told her this Christmas was going to be one she’d never forget.

“We should do this again sometime,” Terry suggested as they walked back to the office, his tone casual but the hint of something more lingering in the air.

“Definitely,” Eve replied, but her thoughts drifted back to the past, to all the things she’d buried. The what-ifs. The could-have-beens. For now, though, she was content. Whatever this was, it was enough—for now.

“How about tonight?” Terry surprised her, his voice bringing her back to the moment. “We could grab some dinner, or I can bring something over. You still love that fried rice from Gogi Grill, right?” He grinned, already knowing the answer. Eve had always been a creature of habit when it came to good food. She stopped in her tracks, a smile spreading across her face. “I can’t believe you remember! Of course I still love their fried rice.” She stressed the word love, making sure he heard it loud and clear. “And the—”

“—vegetable spring rolls. Yeah, I know.”

“That sounds so good.” she grinned, feeling a spark of excitement.

“What time works for you?” he asked, already getting his phone out. “I’ll bring it all.”

“Eight?” she replied, figuring that gave her just enough time to get home, unwind, and freshen up.

“I’ll be there at eight. Let me get your phone so I can save my number, and you can text me your new address.”

They walked back toward her desk, and Terry promised to see her later. The rest of the afternoon dragged, Eve barely getting any work done as her mind wandered, fixated on what was coming next. The second five o'clock hit, she nearly bolted out of the office. At home, she was a whirlwind—tidying, organizing, putting everything in order. By the time the doorbell rang, she had just slipped into a comfy graphic tee and yoga pants. No need to impress him—this was Terry.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” she greeted with a grin, stretching her arms wide as Terry’s gaze swept over her. She almost convinced herself she was imagining it.

“Feel free to bring the food to the living room. I’ve got plates and bean bags set up if that’s cool with you.”

“Works for me,” Terry replied, setting down the bags of food. As he dished out their plates, she grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, uncorking it and pouring them each a glass.

“You still watch those cheesy romance flicks?” Terry teased, flipping through the channels with a smirk.

“No,” she replied a little too quickly, though, she definitely did.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You don’t have to front for me. I know you too well.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re right. Can’t hide anything from you.” They eventually landed on a BET romance about a doctor secretly in love with his best friend, and Eve couldn’t help but notice the irony of it all. She thought about asking him to change the channel but decided against it, instead letting out a long sigh, a wave of longing she couldn’t quite explain washing over her.

“What’s wrong?” Terry’s voice softened with concern.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, trying to brush it off, but his eyes told her he wasn’t buying it.

“Something’s on your mind,” he pressed gently. “Is it the food? Or something else?”

“Definitely not the food,” Eve answered, “I guess I’m just not feelin’ the movie. It’s... a little too cheesy, even for me.” Normally, these kinds of stories made her feel all warm and fuzzy, but tonight, it just hit differently—like a reminder of the things she might never have, especially with the man she’d always wanted sitting right next to her, still oblivious to her feelings.

“Really? I think it’s kind of sweet,” he said, and Eve froze mid-bite.

“Sweet? What’s gotten into you?” she teased, her eyebrows arched.

He shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “When you like it, it’s romantic. But when I do, something’s gotta be wrong?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Man, every time I made you watch one of these back in the day, you complained the whole time,” she teased, her smirk growing.

“That was a long time ago. I was just a kid then. I’m a grown man now,” he shot back, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief.

She looked him over, feeling the weight of his words in a way she hadn’t expected. “Alright, grown man,” she teased, trying to mask the sudden shift in her chest. “Guess it just threw me off, that’s all.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, his tone a little more challenging now.

“Because you were never the romantic type,” she said, but even as the words left her mouth, her heart couldn’t help but wonder if that had changed.

“How do you know that?” he shot back, his question hanging in the air like it meant something more. Eve felt a small pang in her chest. Maybe it was silly, but Terry always had a way of getting under her skin.

“I guess I don’t know, Terry,” she admitted quietly. “You’re right. I wouldn’t know what kind of romantic you are. You’ve always treated me like family.” The last words came out with a little more weight than she intended, a quiet bitterness lingering at the edges of her voice. She didn’t want to admit it, but it still stung.

Terry leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she wasn’t used to. “Only because I didn’t know how to be romantic back then,” he said, his voice dropping to something more vulnerable. “Didn’t know how to flirt, didn’t know how to say what I felt.”

Her breath caught, a sudden heat creeping up her neck as he continued, his voice lower now, more serious. “I treated you the only way I knew how. Walked you home every day, carried your bag, made sure to save some of my mama’s fried dumplings for you. It might not have been flowers or poems, but I thought I was making it clear.”

Eve blinked, feeling the floor beneath her shift. “Terry, what are you saying?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, but her mind was already racing—was he really saying what she thought he was?

“I always liked you, Evie. Always,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But I thought... I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

Her cheeks flushed deep, a rush of heat flooding her face at his words. The weight of the confession hit her in waves, stirring up feelings she'd buried for so long. "That’s not true. I was into you, too—really into you."

Terry’s eyes widened with surprise, a small smile breaking through as he processed her words. “But you were with Keith. You got engaged.” He’d seen the engagement photos on social media, and it had torn him up inside. Took everything not to call her phone and tell her she was making a mistake. But he’d convinced himself that the right thing to do would be to step back and let her find happiness without him.

She exhaled slowly, her throat tight with emotion. "He asked me to be his girlfriend... and later, to marry him. At the time, I thought it was what I was supposed to do. You were gone, and I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to tell you how I really felt," she said, her voice quieter now, as if the words were heavy. "I convinced myself that if I just moved on, I could forget you."

“Are you telling me,” Terry’s laugh was low, almost incredulous, but there was a warmth behind it—like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “that we both felt this way all along, and I just didn’t see it?”

Eve let out a breath, trying to steady herself. “Yeah, Terry. I think we both did.”

“Evie,” he began, his voice soft, almost reverent. His hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers—a touch so light it made her heart stutter. “All these years…” Her breath hitched. She didn’t pull back, but she wasn’t sure how to step forward either. 

Memories flooded her mind, sharp and vivid as if they’d happened yesterday—walking home together in the rain, Terry draping his jacket over her head to protect her crown. Splitting a basket of wings at the local chicken spot after school, making do with whatever change they could scrape together. His loud, carefree laugh always chasing away her bad days, like he could make the world feel right again without even trying. Those moments weren’t just the past, they were the foundation of everything they’d ever been. Terry had always been there, steady as sunrise, holding it down in ways she didn’t know how to name back then. 

His thumb brushed the back of her hand, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of her skin. He leaned in just a little, his gaze searching hers, the air between them thick with longing. “Evie,” he whispered, his voice gentle but heavy with desire. “Can I kiss you?”

Her eyes flickered down to his lips before she gave a subtle nod. 

With a tenderness that made her heart race, Terry cupped her face in his hands and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. They were softer than he’d imagined, and she let out a breathy sigh that sent a wave of warmth through him. His hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips with a gentle squeeze as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet, like dark chocolate and candy canes—the kind of holiday goodies she loved, and now he couldn’t help but love them, too. Pulling away slowly, his gaze softened, serious now. “Evie, I’m not looking for something temporary. I want something real. Something lasting. Not just for the holidays or a good time.”He let the words hang in the air, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. “This—us—I don't want it to be just another chapter in my life.”

"Terry," Eve whispered, her hand resting gently on his chest before sliding up to cup his face. "This is a lot… all at once. Before we go any further, I need to know we’re really on the same page." Her voice trembled slightly, her guard creeping back up. It wasn’t easy learning to trust again, to let her heart stay open after everything she’d been through. And with Terry... there was no way her heart wouldn’t get tangled up in this. As much as he hated the idea of stepping back, Terry understood where she was coming from. She wasn’t wrong—they had too much history to rush into something without thinking it through. Their lives were intertwined in so many ways: mutual friends, their parents practically family. He nodded, his voice steady and sincere. “I hear you, Evie. I got you. We’ll take this slow—whatever feels right for you.”

In the days that followed, Terry found any excuse to be around Eve. He’d joke about “checking the perimeter” at work, but really, he just wanted to be near her—catching glimpses of her at her desk, looking effortlessly stunning in those blue-light blocking glasses and preppy business casual outfits. He’d leave her little treats—those chocolate “kisses” she couldn’t resist—and sticky notes filled with jokes or random facts to make her smile. And sometimes, he'd offer to grab office supplies for her, like highlighters or paper clips, even though she could easily pick them up herself. It was his way of staying close, of showing her that he was there.

His presence didn’t go unnoticed. The women in the office—Ms. Ruby especially—seemed to flock to Eve’s desk, trying to catch a glimpse of Terry, pretending they needed something just for the chance to see him up close.

“I’m gonna tell Mr. Charles on you,” Eve teased Ms. Ruby one morning, grinning.

“What he don’t know won’t hurt him, baby,” Ms. Ruby shot back with a wink, fanning herself as she smirked. “I’m just lookin’. Ain’t no harm in that.”

Eve and Terry started syncing their lunches, making sure to carve out time outside of the office to be together. Eve introduced him to her favorite local deli, where he quickly became hooked on the sandwiches and pasta salad. One afternoon, they shared a plate of injera at an Ethiopian restaurant while Terry told stories about an Ethiopian guy he’d served with, their laughter filling the space between them as they reconnected and deepened their bond. Throughout it all, Terry was the perfect gentleman—opening doors, pulling out her chair, and offering her bites of whatever he was eating, especially when they ordered different dishes. It was those little moments, the simple kindness in his gestures, that made her heart swell and open to the possibility of a real future with him.

Even though Terry was crashing at his mom’s place until he found his own, most evenings, he was at hers. They’d curl up on her couch, the TV left forgotten as they lost themselves in each other—kissing, cuddling, fingers tracing over bare skin. No distractions, no rush—just being together. On those nights, Terry shared more stories from his time in the service, each one peeling back another layer of the man she was just beginning to rediscover. In return, she recounted the ups and downs of her college years—laughing over the good times and the challenges. She filled him in on her sisters, Joy and Noelle, and how they had both started families of their own. They laughed about how her brother, Emmanuelle, still couldn’t resist sticking his nose into everyone’s business, despite being engaged to the woman of his dreams.

Terry told her about his mom—how much she’d been enjoying having him back at home. She’d been lonely since his dad passed, and had tried to fill that void with "friends" who never quite measured up to Terry Sr. Eve could hear the love and concern in his voice, the way he cared for his mom’s well-being, even as he juggled his own life. Life hadn’t slowed down while they’d been apart, but now, with Terry back in her life, everything felt like it was falling into place.

Moving forward together felt just right, so Eve invited Terry and his mom, Gloria, to join her family for Christmas. It had been three whirlwind weeks since the Secret Santa exchange, but she couldn’t imagine celebrating her favorite holiday without him. Her mom was overjoyed to hear that Terry was back in town, and her dad—true to his warm, welcoming nature—was all for it, always saying, the more, the merrier. Gloria didn’t hesitate to accept, admitting it had been far too long since she’d seen the Dillards and even longer since she’d enjoyed a big family Christmas.

When Christmas Eve finally arrived, the doorbell rang, and Eve opened it to find Terry standing on the porch, holding a foil-covered pan in one hand and shrink-wrapped sweet potato pies in the other. He looked as handsome as ever, dressed in a cream-colored cashmere sweater and navy blue slacks. Beside him, his mother, Gloria, was glowing—decked out in a vibrant red outfit with jingle bell earrings that softly jingled as she smiled warmly.

The sight of them, so full of the holiday spirit, made Eve’s heart swell with warmth.

“You didn’t have to bring anything, Ms. Gloria!” Eve said, smiling brightly.

“I always bake too many pies, baby, you know that,” Gloria replied with a wink. “At least they won’t go to waste this year.”

Eve chuckled, stepping aside to let them in. The moment the door swung closed, a mouthwatering scent filled the air, rich with the familiar, savory spices that brought her back to her childhood. Her eyes landed on the pan in Terry’s hands. “And what’s that?” she asked, voice filled with eager curiosity.

“What you think?” Terry grinned.

“Fried dumplings?”

“Fried up just the way you like them—crispy and golden,” he confirmed.

Eve couldn’t help herself—she did a little happy dance right there in the doorway, which sent Gloria into a fit of laughter.

“I made them just for you, sweet girl,” Gloria said, grinning. “I remember how much you loved these back in the day.”

“You’re the best, Ms. Gloria,” Eve said, pulling her into a tight hug. “Not a crumb of this is going to waste, I swear.”

Before Gloria could respond, a loud, familiar voice rang out from deeper inside the house. “Richmond!” Eve’s brother, Emmanuelle, appeared in the hallway, grinning wide. He made his way over to Terry, pulling him into a big, tight hug and giving him a friendly slap on the back. Terry adjusted the pan in his hand, leaning into the embrace. “Man, where you been at?”

Terry smirked, taking in the scene. “Right where I’m supposed to be, I guess.”

“Well, good to see you back, bro. Ain’t nobody here that can keep up with me on Uno except you.”

Emmanuelle’s loud greeting drew the rest of the family in like a magnet. Within moments, the entire Dillard crew had swarmed around Terry, wrapping him in hugs, back slaps, and warm greetings from every direction. Eve’s dad pulled him into a big rocking hug, her mom gave his shoulders a quick, affectionate pat, and her sisters squeezed him between chasing their toddlers, who zipped around the living room like little caffeinated elves, clearly hyped up on holiday treats. Terry soaked it all in. The Dillard house had always been full of life, and it was a relief to see that hadn’t changed. Some things were different, sure, but the love and warmth that mattered most were just the same.

“Let me take that off your hands, bruh,” Emmanuelle said, reaching for the pan. “I’ll put it with the rest of the food.”

“Uh-uh!” Eve cut in, snatching the pan before he could touch it. “You’re not slick.”

“Slick?” Emmanuelle raised a brow. “Girl, you that greedy? You can’t even trust me to take a pan to the kitchen?”

“I can’t trust you, period,” Eve shot back. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in close. “Especially when I know you helped break my snow globe.”

Emmanuelle’s face twisted as he tried to recall what she was talking about.

“I know it was you,” she added, her eyes narrowing.

He smirked and turned to Terry. “You told her, man?”

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “I didn’t say a word. You just outed yourself.” He hadn’t revealed that he was shoved into the shelf, choosing to shield the younger man from being implicated in the "crime."

Emmanuelle shook his head, laughing. “That’s foul, sis. You really out here holding on to something from a over decade ago just to call me out? You oughta be ashamed. All this over some food? You that greedy?”

“I have to be!” Eve shot back. “I’ve been dealing with you my whole life. Ashley, I don’t know how you handle this man. He’s been eating entire meals by himself since he was ten.”

Ashley, Emmanuelle’s fiancé, strolled by, tossing her husband a look. “Girl, I just cook double and call it a day.” The room erupted into laughter as the family buzzed around them, settling into the lively chaos that made Christmas at the Dillard house unforgettable.

An hour later, everyone gathered around the table, plates piled high with Christmas Eve dishes: smothered chicken over rice, cabbage cooked with bacon, buttery rolls, and generous helpings of Ms. Gloria’s Carribbean spiced dumplings. The real feast—the honey-glazed ham, collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, smoked turkey, and sautéed okra—was waiting for Christmas Day. But tonight, this was more than enough. They joined hands and bowed their heads as the family prayed, offering blessings for their health, happiness, and the year to come.

“So, Terry, when’d you get back, bruh?” Emmanuelle asked, already halfway through a second helping of chicken and rice.

“Been about seven weeks. Almost two months now,” Terry replied, taking a sip of sweet tea.

“What?” Emmanuelle looked up, fork in midair. “Why ain’t I seen you yet?”

“I’ve been laying low,” Terry said. “Getting used to civilian life again.”

Emmanuelle turned to Eve with a mock-serious expression. “Evie, why didn’t you tell me my boy was back?”

She shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I didn’t even know he was back until a couple of weeks ago."

From the corner of her eye, Eve noticed her sisters straightening up, ears clearly tuned in. She knew that look—they smelled tea brewing. When she didn’t respond right away, Emmanuelle leaned in, fanning the flames.

“How’d y’all reconnect anyway?” he asked, eyes narrowed playfully.

Eve cleared her throat, keeping her tone light but firm. “We work together now.”

That should’ve been the end of it, but she could see her brother’s curiosity growing. The last thing she needed was for her family to get too nosy about her and Terry. It wasn’t that she was hiding anything, but it was still too early for outside opinions to complicate things.

“Oh, okay, so you saw him at the office,” Emmanuelle said, smirking. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why are you grilling me, E-Man?” Eve shot back, raising a brow.

“Grilling? I’m just asking questions!”

“Terry, what are you doing at the company?” her mom, Diane, chimed in, cutting through the sibling banter.

“Security,” Terry replied, pausing to wipe his mouth. “Keeping the building safe and making sure everything runs smooth.”

Joy, one of Eve’s sisters, leaned back with a sly smile. “Didn’t know the corporate world was so dangerous,” she teased, sipping her spiked sweet tea. “Bet all the ladies in the office are feeling extra secure with you around."

Eve shot her a warning look, but Terry didn’t flinch.

“It’s not really about danger,” he explained. “It’s more about protecting sensitive info. Everything’s a target these days.” He paused, letting his words settle as he caught the curious looks around the table. “But it’s a good change of pace from the military. I like it. Plus, I’m saving up to start my own private security firm someday. I want to give other brothers coming out of the service a chance to transition into something solid. Help them find their footing again.”

The table went quiet for a moment, the weight of his words settling over them.

“That’s solid, bro,” Emmanuelle said, giving a nod of approval. “We need more folks doing that. Respect, man.”

Eve caught herself smiling at him, a quiet pride swelling inside her as she watched how effortlessly he commanded respect from everyone at the table. She’d seen it in the weeks since they’d reconnected—the way his presence shifted the energy in any room. People either stepped aside or flocked to him, drawn to his quiet confidence. He set the tone, and it was so damn attractive. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice how the affection lighting up her face hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the room.

“Well, are you single, Terry?” her father, Ed, asked without missing a beat. He’d always had a feeling there was something between his little Eve and the Richmond boy. He’d sensed it even back when Terry was still too young and unsure to act on it. But the man sitting in front of him now was someone he could respect—someone he could trust with his baby girl.

“Dad!” Eve protested, her face flushing. But before she could say another word, Gloria, Terry’s mom, jumped in with a playful grin.

“He sure is!” Gloria chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Terry shot his mom a look of surprise.

“Really?” Diane, Eve’s mom, asked, raising an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Eve’s siblings were doing their best to hide their snickering. Eve’s little niece sat on Noelle’s lap, eyes wide, watching the exchange with interest.

“You know, Evie’s single too,” Diane added with a knowing smile, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying herself.

“Mommy—”

“I’m just saying, baby,” Diane said, holding her hands up in mock innocence. The room fell into an expectant silence, all eyes locked on them.

Eve shot Terry a look, shaking her head. Their families just couldn’t resist stirring the pot. She thought, Black folks and their matchmaking. Terry grinned and casually draped an arm over the back of her chair, giving her a look that said, Forget it. Might as well lean into it now. Several sets of eyes snapped in their direction, keen to catch every little moment.

Eve and Terry exchanged a quiet glance, a wordless conversation passing between them before she finally decided to rip the Band-Aid off. “Well, since you’re all in my business,” Eve said with a sigh, “Terry and I have been seeing each other. Just a little while, though. We’re taking it slow.”

It was like a buzzer went off at a championship basketball game—everyone erupted with hoots, hollers, and excited chatter.

“I knew it!”

“Talking ‘bout I’m not slick– girl, you not slick!”

“That’s why she been dodging my calls!”

Terry’s mom elbowed him playfully, her face lighting up with a grin. “Why you didn’t tell me, baby?” She’d suspected something was up with all the late hours he had been keeping, but she’d kept quiet, not wanting to push him too fast. Now, though, seeing the joy on his face, she couldn’t help but be happy for them. 

Terry looked at his mom, his expression softening as he took in her beaming face. It had been too long since he’d seen her this genuinely happy. He gently covered her hand with his own. “We’re still getting to know each other again, Mama. Taking it slow, ‘cause we want to do it right. Didn’t want to tell anyone too soon, or get your hopes up, just in case.”

“It’ll work out,” Gloria said with a smile that was both warm and knowing. “You’re just like your daddy—considerate, kind, protective, dependable. You’re a good man. Anybody would be lucky to have you in their life. And Eve, she’s a great girl. The best, if you ask me. She knows you for who you are, flaws and all. She’s solid, knows herself, and she’s the kind of woman you want by your side. Y’all can make it work, if you both want to…”

Terry’s gaze drifted to the back of Eve’s head as she laughed and talked with her family, fully in her element. It was magnetic. He couldn’t help but think, She’s the one.

“…and I suspect you do.”

Eve caught snippets of the conversation between Terry and her mom, her own voice blending with the chatter around her. “Yeah, mama, we’ll make it,” she heard Terry say, his voice steady, confident.

“You calling it a night after this? Heading home?” Eve asked when her family finally gave her a break from answering questions.

“That wasn’t really the plan.” Terry smirked, his gaze steady on hers. 

Bet, she thought, fighting the urge to grab his hand and tell everyone they were out.

After dinner, they exchanged Christmas Eve gifts with the family. Eve had gotten Terry a new tactical backpack for his camping trips. He’d mentioned before how much he loved getting away to the woods, disconnecting from the world, and reconnecting with nature. She also picked out a cute elephant trinket for his mom, a nod to Ms. Gloria’s sorority, representing strength and resilience. In return, Terry had gifted her parents a beautifully wood-burned sign that read Dillard Family Home. Her parents adored it, and her dad wasted no time putting Terry to work, hanging it up above the door.

Her nieces and nephews tore through their gifts from Uncle Emmanuelle, too big for them to manage on their own, immediately enlisting the adults to help set up toys, insert batteries, and get the noise blasting from their new gadgets. Eve played the dutiful auntie, pitching in to help get the kids settled before she attempted to make a quiet exit, a little earlier than usual.

Her sisters weren’t letting her off that easy, though. They cornered her near the foyer while Terry helped his mom put on her shoes. “No you don’t, girl,” Noelle whispered, with a mischievous grin, while she and Joy surrounded Eve like two sharks on the hunt.

Eve tried to play it cool. “We need to get Ms. Gloria home before it gets too late.”

Joy leaned in close, her voice dripping with teasing. “Girl, please. We already know what’s up. After you drop Ms. Gloria off, you’re gonna be right back with Terry. I been sneaking around long before you even started.”

Eve rolled her eyes, trying to keep it moving while they giggled behind her.

Terry quickly helped his mom settle into her house while Eve sat in the car, fidgeting in the seat, trying to calm the flutter in her chest. When he stepped back outside into the crisp evening air, she reminded herself to get it together. It’s just Terry. 

The whole ride felt charged, the air between them thick with unspoken words, teetering on the edge of something both of them were ready to step into. Eve caught herself stealing glances at Terry, her stomach flipping each time his fingers drummed on the steering wheel or his lips twitched into a half-smile. By the time they reached the family home and she slid into her car, she could barely keep her composure. The drive back to her place was a blur of thoughts, her heartbeat drowning out the soft hum of Christmas music on the radio. Enough. Enough holding back.

When Terry knocked on her door a little while later, she didn’t hesitate. She opened it, grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside. Without a word, she led him to her room. The space was warm and inviting–signature seasonal scents wafted through the air, and a small four-foot tree twinkled in the corner. Low, sultry R&B Christmas classics filled the room, the perfect soundtrack for everything she wasn’t saying.

“Sit,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, gesturing to the bed. She opened her bedside drawer, pulled out a small gold-foiled packet, and placed it on the comforter beside him. “I know what I want. I want you. I want us.”

She stepped between his legs, loving the way his strong hands explored the curve of her back and sides as their lips met.  She’d had a quick sip of wine while waiting for him, just enough to quiet her nerves. The lingering warmth of it heightened every sensation, making her feel energized and bold. She gently cradled Terry’s head against her chest, her breaths coming soft and uneven as she tried to steady herself.

“I’ve been all in, Eve,” he said, his voice low and unshakable. “Always.”

She let her fingers trail along his warm skin, grounding herself in the reality of him—not just the fantasy she’d kept alive in her mind. Terry was the dangerous kind of handsome, the kind that should come with a warning label. He kissed her softly at first, but his touch grew more demanding and insistent as she shed her clothes. Eve straddled his lap, moving closer, spurred on by the way he held her—like she was precious, worth cherishing, and meant to be kept all to himself.

“You’re safe with me,” Terry promised, his lips brushing her ear. “Always.”

And she believed him. She melted into his touch, surrendering to the intoxicating thrill—and the quiet fear—of letting herself fall. Of trusting. Of daring to believe this could be the start of something real, as he effortlessly flipped them so that he was on top. "Thought about you like this," she admitted softly, helping him lift his shirt over his head to reveal the firm contours of his abdomen. "On top of me, just like this."

Terry's gaze locked on hers, dark and intense. 

“Tell me what else you thought about,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. He wanted her to let whatever she was feeling spill out. Eve was usually guarded, always careful with how much she gave, but now, with him, she didn’t hold back.

She reached down, her fingers curling around his dick through his boxers. "I’ve been thinking about this," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "What you’d feel like... what it would be like to have you inside me. I’ve waited so long... I almost don’t want to ruin the fantasy." She teased, biting her bottom lip, a playful spark in her eyes. She could feel it—the way that set him on fire. Terry felt his control slipping. Every part of him was primed, ready to unleash it all on her. "Pull it out and see for yourself." 

Eve wrapped both hands around him, her touch slow and deliberate, as her fingers explored every inch. She gasped softly at how hot and heavy he felt, even thicker she had realized. "God," she whispered, feeling her body respond to the sensation of him in her hand. Her mind raced with thoughts of him slapping that fat tip against her clit. She imagined how he’d feel inside her—wondering if he’d be slow and methodical, or more rushed and rough. Either way, she knew she wouldn’t mind.

Above her, Terry’s breath caught as he tugged his boxers down, guiding her hand to him more firmly. His chest rose and fell as his mind tried to stay clear. She glanced up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes. Spitting a thick glob into her hand, she spread it over him with slow, deliberate strokes. Her eyes never left his, watching him unravel under her touch. His face was tight, eyes flickering between her movements and the ceiling as he groaned softly. The sound stirred something deep inside her.

"You want me to take you in my mouth?" she whispered, her voice soft and sweet, as if she were asking the simplest question in the world.

Terry couldn’t respond immediately. His mind was lost in the heat of the moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on. But when her fingers traced over his balls, kneading them with a slow, firm touch, he couldn’t stop the groan that slipped from his lips. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his dick, her puckered lips gliding sensually over the slick skin. “It’s so beautiful, baby. Thick, too.” She giggled, enjoying the way his hips stuttered when she tongued the leaky tip.

“You’re actin’ up,” Terry groaned, his breath shaky. With one swift movement, he shifted onto his knees, lining himself up with her mouth. “Open up,” he urged, his voice low with desire. He couldn’t wait any longer. Terry fed her his length, hissing loudly when her mouth closed around him, hot and wet. “Mmm... That’s exactly what I want.” 

Eve surprised him by staring into his eyes as she worked her mouth around his length, brown eyes captivating him like a spell. Her hands moved over him, soft yet taunting until he was powerless under touch. 

"You’re gorgeous, you know that?"

"Yes, baby, keep working those hands—just like that."

“You’re perfect, Evie.” 

Terry groaned, his blue-green eyes locked on her. He could hardly believe he had the girl of his dreams under him, ready and willing to please him. "Nobody’s perfect, but I’ll take the compliment." Eve paused, her hands gently running over him as she caught her breath, wetness gathering around the corners of her mouth.

Terry tugged at her bra strap, his voice low with need. “Take this off.” She shifted, unhooking it, and letting it fall to her lap. He stroked himself, remembering the night she let him play with her titties on her couch. He was worked up from all the kissing with no follow through, and she offered to help him release some of that tension. He kissed her breasts while she sighed and worked her hips against him. He tasted her nipples and she arched her back for more. He teased them with his fingers and his mouth, pinching and tugging until she was rocking back and forth in his lap. She panted while he held her in place, thrusting his dick up into her clothed core until they were both coming in their clothes. He almost stayed that night. She clung to him afterward, silently pleading for him to end their self-imposed misery. It took every ounce of restraint for him to leave, but he couldn’t let her body make a choice her mind wasn’t ready to make. Now, he had no more reasons to resist.

“Lay back,” He ordered, shifting to straddle her waist. The new angle had him right where he wanted to be. Close enough to stroke himself against her soft skin and watch the way she responded to him.

"You want to let it all out, don’t you?" She licked her lips, watching his dick twitch in his hand. "I can see it in your eyes. Looks like it's killing you." The tip was an angry red shade. His balls were drawn tight. Her clit pulsed with desire. “You ain’t gotta hold back with me. I want everything.” She promised, her voice soft and alluring, as if she could sense his every need. Terry’s breath hitched, his control slipping. Every part of him was drawn to her. 

“You’re gonna make me lose it, baby.” Terry’s voice was low, a growl in the back of his throat. He couldn’t think straight, especially when she took him into her mouth again, the heat sending him into a frenzy. Her hands slid over her own body, teasing her breasts the way he liked as she felt the fire building in her. The way he reacted, panting and whimpering pushed her even closer to the edge. “Hold up–” He started, but she was insistent, forcing her throat down his length until she was gagging. Terry’s body jerked above her, and he spilled warm cum into her mouth and then onto her plump breasts without warning. “Fuck, Evie,” He groaned as she chased him with her mouth. He’d meant to warn her, but that greedy little mouth of hers was too tempting. He fell into place next to her, catching his breath. She didn’t seem to care about the mess. In fact, she looked pleased with herself, giggling as he apologized lowly. She told him there was no need. 

"You know we don’t have to pretend with each other, right?" She asked, sensually rubbing his seed into her skin. He watched her slow, seductive movements, wondering how he got so lucky. 

“You’re wild.” He felt his dick stirring to life again. “Sit on my face,” he ordered, guiding her to squat above his head. 

"This position is new for me," she confessed, feeling a flutter of excitement in her belly. “You don’t have to do anything but relax,” Terry hooked his arms under her leg and held her in place. “Leave the work to me,” Terry pulled her down, keeping a firm grip on her legs as he licked between them. At first, it was tentative, a slow exploration as he took his time learning her body, what made her sigh and moan. But soon, desire took over, and he became more urgent, more greedy. She ran her hand over his head, experimenting with the sensation of moving her hips. 

“That feels so good,” She whimpered, loving the leverage the position gave her. Terry seemed perfectly attuned to her every reaction, adjusting his moves based on what made her shiver or sigh. She shut her eyes and quickened her rhythm, breathing heavily with pleasure. With a smirk, Terry took a moment to tease her. “You like when I lick your pussy like this?”

“Yes!”

“Keep grindin’ this wet pussy on my face.”

Eve whimpered.

He encouraged her to move her hips faster with soft taps to her ass. She trembled, unable to focus on anything other than the way his tongue felt. Her eyes drifted down to the sight of him between her legs. “Don’t stop–please don’t stop,” She mewled, no longer in control of her own body. It felt like watching a train wreck, knowing something earth-shattering was coming, but being powerless to stop it. “Terry, please!” She gripped the sheets as hard as her fists would allow, crying out as she reached her peak. 

Terry spoke, his voice a low hum as he repositioned her, but she was too dazed to make sense of anything, still floating back down to Earth.

“You good, Princess?”

She blinked, trying to focus as his face came back into view. "Huh?"

Terry chuckled softly, and she buried her face in his neck, letting her body relax against him.

"Evie?"

She felt his hands slide over her back.

"Hmm?"

"You ain’t about to pass out on me, are you?"

"I’m trying not to..." But he kept gently coaxing her, luring her toward sleep with tender kisses and soft whispers. “But you’re tempting me.” She warned, feeling his dick harden against her stomach all over again. 

She sat up on her knees, rubbing her eyes as she looked at him. "How do you want me?" 

"You’re too cute." He said, patting her bottom softly. “Come get in my lap.”

Terry kissed her sweetly, his dick hardening and prodding at her backside. She reached back to touch it, feeling that it was hard as steel and slick, all over again. “Wow,” She laughed softly between their kisses, feeling the intensity of his desire. “You can't get enough of me, huh?”

“You have no idea.” He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, the playful tension turning into something more serious. “I want you to know I thought about you every day I was gone. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Imagining you like this... all mine.” He gently smoothed his hands along the sides of her hair, trying to tame the wild curls that had grown bigger with all the sweating and rolling around. “I’d lie on my cot, seeing your face in my mind. Every night.”

"Terry… you really shouldn’t say things like that," she said, her voice soft with sudden shyness.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He challenged. Eve swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze. Terry had a way of making her feel seen, like all her walls had been torn down, yet she was safe. She took a breath, reminding herself that she could let her heart lead with him. 

"Because I'm falling for you and when you say things like that, it makes it so much harder for me to keep it together."

“Why are you acting like you gotta fight this, Eve?” He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s us.” He took her hands in his, stilling them. 

“What if I told you I feel the same way?” She could hardly believe he was saying the words she had wanted to hear over a decade ago. Even if this was some strangely vivid dream she’d drummed up as a result of her Christmas Blues, she wanted to soak in every word, every moment. “I love you, Eve Dillard. I’ve loved you for a long time. I’m sure of it. More than anything else in this world.”

“Terry Richmond...” She started, almost at a loss for words. Hearing him declare it so openly made her feel like she was floating in the clouds. “I love you too.”

“Yeah? You sure?” He teased. 

“Uh huh,” She hummed, feeling his fingers splay across her thighs.

“I wanna show you how much. Can I?"

She nodded.

“You want me, Evie?” 

She nodded her head. 

His hand landed firmly on her ass, and she let out a startled whimper as she lurched forward in his arms. The sound shot straight to his dick. "You gotta let me know, sweetheart." 

“Yes, I want you, Terry. All of you.” 

Eve didn’t know what was possessing her, making her so open and submissive. She told Terry he was everything she’d ever dreamed of and that she couldn’t imagine a future without him. He told her she didn’t have to. She kissed him deeply, tasting herself as he alternated smacks on both sides of her ass until he was satisfied and lining himself up at her entrance. Her mouth fell open as he pushed his way inside. “Fuck,” Terry cursed as she clutched his arms with that shocked look on her face. He kissed her lips and then her jaw, all tender and sweet. “You’re okay. I got you,” He promised, groaning when she began to open up for him. His large hands slid down her body, settling over her hips as he began lifting her up and down on his dick. Eve buried her face in his neck, biting her lip as Terry slammed into her. He grunted his satisfaction as she dripped down his length and made a mess.

“You feel so good, Evie.”

“Squeezing me so tight.”

“All mine.”

“Give it to me, Princess.”

His words pushed her closer to the edge until she could hardly breathe, gripping his neck and shoulders like he was her lifeline. “You’re drivin’ me crazy!” She moaned into his ear, her walls squeezing around his dick. “Good,” Terry grunted, “That's how I want you. Crazy about me and this dick.” Her eyes rolled back as he pumped his hips harder, the strain in his voice evident. “You were made for this dick, just like I was made for this perfect little pussy.” He poked something inside of her that made her holler. But Terry was shushing her, holding her tight to his chest and cooing in her ear. "Let it happen, baby. I got you. I know what you need. You can take it."

She placed her hands flat against his chest. His grip on her hips were still iron tight. "C’mon now, Evie. Be good to me. You wanna make me feel good, don’t you?" His words worked the way he intended. She surrendered, laying her head across his shoulders and holding on for dear life as he worked her over. "That’s it, baby. I told you you were perfect. How you feel now?"

She dug her nails into his skin and concentrated on keeping her eyes from crossing. You know how it feels, you bastard! She thought, but the only words spilling out of her mouth were sweet and agreeable. She told him how good he felt, how no one else had ever made her feel that way, and that she wanted him to make her feel that way for the rest of their lives. He told her that he loved her and she was the only one for him. She cried, warm teardrops spilling over his skin as she came, yelling his name. Terry held her in place, capturing her lips in another long kiss as he finished, wishing there was nothing in between them.

Eve’s head rested against Terry’s chest, her body limp from exhaustion. Breathless and completely satisfied, they stayed close for several minutes, catching their breath. Slowly, Terry began to stir, pressing a soft kiss to her damp forehead.

"You good, mama?"

“Mhm,” She mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. “I'm just...worn out." She said, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Me too,” Terry admitted, his hand caressing her back softly. He never wanted this moment to end. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze was on her, focused and intense. It took her breath away.

“Why you looking at me like that?” 

“Take a guess,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

She didn’t need to guess. Everything between them—every unspoken desire—was no longer hanging in the balance. It had all become real. Her thoughts wandered to the future—wedding rings, little feet running around. “You want to marry me and have five babies?” she teased, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You think that’s funny, huh?” She shrugged, her fingers gently tracing his jawline, “Guess I’m funny and fine.” His smile widened, his gaze filled with something unreadable. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Her fingers gently caressed his mustache, her voice a soft whisper as she murmured, "I love you, Terry. I really do."

"I love you too, Evie.”

2025

Christmas Eve had always been special, but this year, Terry was determined to make it unforgettable.

Eve turned away from the window where she’d been watching the snow fall gently outside. It was a rare sight in the South, a phenomenon that only happened once or twice a decade, and she cherished every second of it. Terry had left her by the window, disappearing into the bedroom, only to return a few moments later, standing by the gas fireplace with a small, neatly wrapped box in his hands.

“What you over there scheming?” she teased with a curious smile.

Terry looked over at her, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the nerves he was trying to hide. “Come here, babe.”

Eve took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. “What’s this? You acting all secretive now?”

Terry extended the box to her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Just open it and see.”

Eve carefully untied the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping paper to reveal a delicate snow globe. She lifted it, tilting it slightly to watch the glittery snow swirl around the two tiny figures inside. At first, she thought it was just a beautiful decoration, but as she took a closer look, the details caught her eye: the woman inside wore a dress that looked remarkably like the one she had worn the year before on Christmas Eve, and the man was down on one knee.

“Hold up... is this us?” Eve gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at Terry, her heart pounding. “Terry! Where did you even find something like this?” She knew it wasn’t something you could just pick up at a store. It was clearly custom-made.

Terry stepped closer, his deep brown eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. “I wanted you to have something special, something that showed you just how much you mean to me. Every detail, every piece of it... is us.”

Eve’s tears spilled over as she held the snow globe close to her chest. “Terry…” 

He gently took her free hand, sinking down on one knee in front of her, mimicking the figurine in the globe. She stared at him, her breath catching, as he pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket.

“Eve, you’ve been my everything from the moment I met you. It took too long for me to face that, but now, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”

She nodded, tears spilling over before she could even speak. Her voice was thick with emotion as she whispered, "Yes, baby, yes."

Terry stood, pulling her into his arms as she laughed and cried at the same time. The snow globe rested safely in her hand, the tiny figures inside capturing the essence of their love—timeless, unwavering, and entirely their own.

A/N: Happy Holidays! Divider by firefly-graphics. The themes included were for storytelling purposes only. The holidays can be enjoyed with family, friends, or even on your own.

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@invisiblegiurl

[kerakeriza]

Damian Wayne: Interests and Hobbies

note: this post refers exclusively to new earth (post-crisis, pre-flashpoint) damian!

for starters, we can talk about the weapons he prefers to use. his most iconic weapon of choice is a blade - usually described as a katana, but he's not so discriminatory. he enjoys using plenty of different kinds of blades.

(batman v1 #656, by grant morrison)

(batgirl v3 #17, by bryan q miller)

(robin vol 2 annual #7, by keith champagne)

he's also a fan of bows, actually.

(batman v1 #675, by morrison)

(batman v1 #680, by morrison)

(batman and robin v1 #16, by morrison)

and while he hasn't used them much, he's not against using knuckle dusters (which really only adds to the cuteness factor of his friendship with colin wilkes).

(batman v1 #657, by morrison)

another weapon he likes to use is the crowbar, ironically. it's ironic, because he ends up beating the joker with one.

(batman and robin v1 #2, by morrison)

(batman and robin v1 #13, by morrison)

damian has been known to fight unarmed, too, of course - he's partial to martial arts, actually.

(robin vol 2 annual #7, by champagne)

he even has a black belt.

(red robin v1 #13, by fabian nicieza)

now, i'm not an expert when it comes to martial artists, but... i'm actually quite sure this is a poster of bruce lee hanging in damian's bedroom!

(batgirl v3 #17, by miller)

fun fact: damian even keeps martial arts equipment at his bedside table, as well as spy equipment.

(batman v1 #689, by judd winick)

damian has a notable interest in cars.

(batman v1 #680, by morrison)

(batman v1 #681, by morrison)

(don't worry about the fact he hit an ambulance - the joker was driving it, so it's fine.)

he's not only interested in driving them, though, he also enjoys tinkering with them and fixing them up. he even made the batmobile fly! it was actually pretty easy for him, since he already had blueprints.

(batman and robin v1 #1, by morrison)

besides cars, he's also interested in motorbikes.

(batman and robin v1 #2, by morrison)

he even gifts a motorbike (with garage included) to his new friend, colin wilkes!

(batman: streets of gotham v1 #12, by paul dini & dustin nguyen & derek fridolfs)

of course, one could say that he has a vested interest in the batman and robin dynamic itself. he always did wonder - once his father came back, what would happen to batman and robin? what about this life he chose for himself?

(batman and robin v1 #10, by morrison)

he's not only worried about what will happen to his dynamic with dick - they did build up quite a friendship through being batman and robin, after all, and it makes sense it would worry him that they might lose their connection if they stopped working together so closely - but he's also worried about himself, and whether or not he will be allowed to continue on as robin. it's a role he grew to cherish, a job that he grew to enjoy a lot. it became a part of himself, a sort of hobby of its own.

(batman and robin v1 #16, by morrison)

(batman: the return v1 #1, by morrison)

okay, back to the lighthearted stuff...

damian is also into real estate! it's one of his... higher class interests, let's say.

(batman: streets of gotham v1 #4, by paul dini)

equally as high class is his interest in designer fashion. (okay, he doesn't *have* to be very interested in it to merely have the knowledge necessary to distinguish an original from a knock-off, but... let's just say it's a point in favor of him being into fashion.)

(superman/batman v1 #44, by joshua williamson)

but hey, he does dunk on the green undies that dick wore as robin. (that's another point in our favor! huzzah!)

(teen titans v3 #88, by j.t. krul)

he even enjoys many aspects of business. for one thing, he's not against dressing up to attend a boardroom meeting and accusing everybody there of being incompetent and irresponsible with his father's company.

(batman and robin v1 #10, by morrison)

another cute one: damian prefers tea over coffee.

(batman and robin v1 #17, by paul cornell)

(batgirl v3 #17, by bryan q miller)

when damian was younger, he enjoyed playing with matches.

(batgirl v3 #5, by miller)

damian also enjoys a good race, as shown in his presence for the charity race between kon-el and bart allen. (it could also mean, though, that he just really cares about supporting charity. or both!) note, too, that he had no obligation to attend - he had already ended his brief stint with the titans. (the wayne foundation did make a donation to the charity, but damian wouldn't appear as robin if he felt an obligation in that sense, he would just appear as himself.)

(superboy v5 #5, by jeff lemire)

...okay, that will have to be all for now! i've reached the limit of 30 images per post. i hope it gave you a fair bit of insight into what damian is interested in and what he likes to do with his free time. thank you for reading!

[housemdork]

house md rewatch: 1x11, "detox"

house's first dance with withdrawal, the ducklings' shaken faith, and wilson's devotion.

i will be hilson posting in here but! i swear it's actually rooted in some serious thought & consideration lol.

at the top of the recap, i'll include a question - house was dressed pretty well this episode, and has been thus far, with collared shirts, coats, etc. just no lab coat. do you think this changes over time just due to normal tv wardrobe changes, or can we take this as another example of his canonical decline? i can go either way, myself.

anyways! doesn't he look like that one portrait of mary in the above picture? this episode felt like microdosing 5x23-6x02 (iykyk). after rearing its head pretty strongly in 1x09, house's vicodin takes center stage, and he makes a pretty interesting claim to cuddy in the conversation that precedes their bet: "pills don't make me high. they make me neutral." the question of what neutrality means for house is SO interesting.

repression/suppression is a theme we commonly associate with wilson as the show evolves, but 1x11 is super up front that house is Holding Things Back via his addiction (he won't use that lingo at first), which is yet another tease at what his collective backstory looks like. we also get the first mention of his infarction in this episode, along with a vague timeline; wilson details that it happened "a few years ago."

i always thought the premise of this episode is kinda...cruel, which had me gagged when they revealed that the scheme to get house off vicodin for a week was wilson's idea. but i think the cruelty of the idea helps characterize house as being truly and impossibly difficult. "cuddy" (wilson) would not have concocted such an insane scheme, full of temptation of the highest order, if house would be receptive to a lesser offer.

i was really struck with mapping the patient's experience onto house's this episode, and i think the plotlines coalesce nicer than usual in this episode, with a little quirk at the end. the patient, keith, presents with inexplicable internal bleeding, and a true avalanche of failed diagnoses follows. the team eventually lands on lupus - the first time lupus is condemned as a non-answer for house - which sends house over the edge because it's too simple.

lupus represents the admittance that he's an addict with a problem. it would explain so much about house, yet it would also tie him up as A Man With Problems in a neat little bow, too simple for house to make peace with. it's his lived experience; he knows the complexities of what brought vicodin into his life more than anybody (though someone in particular comes pretty damn close). lupus, or the title of addict, cannot fit. because then it's simple. because then house can't hide from the simple, serendipitous, brilliant diagnosis.

this parallel comes to the fore in a heated debate with the ducklings. house admits to cameron that keith's symptoms make lupus "more likely, BUT," that "but" doing a lot of heavy lifting. it could be lupus, he could be an addict, BUT that can't be all there is to it. so he majorly jeopardizes the patient by insisting they investigate hepatitis E.

this debate is so intense that it causes a definitive split from house, which really takes off with cameron after foreman pokes fun at her unflinching loyalty/kindness toward house (i think foreman holds a very reductive view of her and house, but i digress). she can either evade the truth about the treatment toward keith's father (which chase advocates for), or tell the father the truth (foreman's choice). when the elevator eclipses her, a nice visual representation of her ingesting both her peers' opinions, we're not clear what her solution will be.

that she first lies to the father and then violates house's wishes, admitting that she believes in the lupus diagnosis, is probably the greatest hit to the ducklings' faith in house yet.

i know i'm bouncing around a lot here, but this is a congested episode (in a good way!) and i want to make sure i don't forget anything. intermixed with house's rapid decline (in time with keith's almost exactly) are wilson's attempts at helping/solving house. first he hires a masseuse for house, and while my knee jerk reaction is to declare how misogynistic the resulting scenes are, i really need to understand why wilson looks so excited by All This:

i know this isn't really the time/place (and it's too early in the show), but like. sure. hire a bossy masseuse and make jokes about house not getting any lately + imply that you're not getting any, either, despite being married. okay whatever. to say nothing of the house/cuddy masseuse debacle of season 7 lol.

what is generically important about the masseuse is that wilson already feels guilty. he knows he's putting his friend through a hard time - in his mind, it's for house's own good - but tries to alleviate some of it. cuddy, meanwhile, does no such thing lol because she 1) probably understands the value, both for house himself and the hospital, in house getting clean and 2) doesn't have enabler disease like wilson. more on that later.

the next glimpse of wilson's guilt comes after house breaks his own hand. this one is pretty obvious - even though wilson is intrigued to learn that house's brain prioritizes this immediate physical pain over his chronic pain, wilson is still distantly responsible for this. and of course house md takes care, once again, to show us how gentle is by nature:

but a little deeper than this is a perverse interest/satisfaction. i don't think wilson directly experiences this, per se, so much as the audience is tipped off to another dimension of his knack for Getting To House. his guilt is competing not just with a sense that he's doing house a favor by drawing his addiction into the light, but also a small excitement for being needed (this also comes together with confirmed enabler wilson later). house's relief is - understandably - visualized like a moment of ecstasy, and wilson is directly or indirectly responsible for each.

relief from the masseuse, relief from breaking his hand, and relief from winning the bet that wilson constructed.

the power dynamics of 1x11 are subversive here. house has been the one in charge, even winning over cuddy on most occasions, but wilson, the orchestrator behind the scenes, reduces house to this state, and it's not without some satisfaction. hilson psychoanalysts hopefully get what i'm putting down here lol. this reversal is UNDONE, of course, by the total failure of the bet because house only gets halfway to help, halfway to the intended solution.

in house's mind, by the end of the 7 days of no vicodin, sure. he's an addict. but just like how lupus was too simple for keith, that title alone is too simple for house. he's addicted without the problem. how can neutrality be a problem? how can his functionality, which he sees as unimpeded, be a net-negative just because it's narcotic-inspired?

another departure before circling back to that integral house and wilson conversation about addiction without a problem. another way 1x11 highlights wilson's guilt and the cruelty of the entire bet is when cuddy accuses house of "playing chicken" with the patient's life. this is right after it's revealed that cameron told the truth about the lupus diagnosis, so the father is up in arms. however, when cameron explains that she managed to convince the father to trust house anyways, house counters with: "that's when he caved."

they always cave, especially when they go to the Wilson School of Enabling. wilson and cuddy have been toying with house, and it crosses a line eventually.

thus, wilson surrenders to house after yet another brief yet revelatory conversation: "you are not just a regular guy who's getting older. you've changed. you're miserable, and you're afraid to face yourself."

"of course i've changed!"

"and everything is the leg? nothing's the pills? they haven't done a thing to you?"

"they let me do my job, and they take away the pain."

obviously, this conversation is a failure, as is the bet. house proves his point - he is in less pain on vicodin, and they do let him do his job. it's wilson who's concerned with his quality of life. it's wilson who knew him best pre-infarction. it's wilson who, selfishly, wants him back to how he used to be.

if we weren't dealing with THE james wilson, i think we could write off the episode's conclusion as a sad end to a selfish endeavor on his part. yet he makes a fleeting remark to cuddy at the very end that basically dooms himself. when she asks him, "what are you gonna do?" wilson says, "nothing. i've done enough damage."

oh boy!

as we know, wilson will go on to try to help house curb his addiction in the future but, more than anything, he will indulge the hell out of it. season 3's central conflict rides on that fact. the guilt wins out in the end, not house's brilliance, nor inner strength, nor the ducklings' shaken faith, nor the very premise of the episode/the bet itself. wilson caves just like the patient's father did because this - house's pain, his addiction, is infarction - is a fact of life. and, hey, if house's addiction is problem that's unable to be fully solved, than wilson gets the endless well of neediness he's been masochistically searching for.

what an absolutely insane foundational episode for these 2.

lastly, i have 2 separate notes that i want to make:

after keith's father punches house in the face, nobody helps house up. cuddy attempts to but doesn't really follow through, and what's more important is that the ducklings just leave him collapsed on the floor. even though house ends up being write about the final diagnosis (which is the craziest one yet), something has definitely shifted.

foreman being the one to hand house vicodin so he can get through the case really affected me this go-around, but i can't put my finger on exactly why. please share your thoughts, if you have any!

[butchhamlet]

do you have any good shakespeare retelling book recs?

what a beautiful time to ask this, says guy who has left this ask collecting cobwebs in his inbox for months! because guess who has two thumbs and just finished queen goneril by erin shields! WHAT a fucking play, holy SHIT, this is some of the best characterization of the lear sisters that i've ever read and the exploration of womanhood as filtered through class + race + shitty families + political maneuvering is so so so good. also the things shields does with the og playtext... chef's fucking KISS

anyway, recency bias aside, i've been meaning to make a post about my favorite shakespeare retellings for a while, and i think i never actually did it because i wanted to make a lear retelling ranking list and then i never read some of the ones on my TBR. so whatever. the learlist will happen someday. here are my favorites in general. (here is my goodreads shelf for the retellings i've read, good and bad, and here is the shelf for the ones i have yet to read.)

in no particular order:

a thousand acres by jane smiley: outsold. epitome of what makes an effective retelling--a book that clearly has something to say about and to the original text, but that also isn't afraid to diverge, to exclude here and zoom in there. ungraciously, this is "lear on a farm" and it starts a little slow, but holy fucking shit, i can't do justice in a paragraph to the way this book unraveled me. one of the best books of all time mayhaps. also, introduced the edmund character by describing his ass. 10/10

the last true poets of the sea by julia drake: i don't read that much YA anymore but jesus fucking christ. books tailored for me specifically. twelfth night retelling about siblings + mental illness + being bisexual + love triangles that actually make sense (emotions are confusing!) instead of being contrived + beautiful description + excellent dialogue + THE MENTAL ILLNESS. books that made me start crying in zoom class in 2020

rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead by tom stoppard: kind of a cop-out answer because we all know this one. but that does not detract from how good it is. this is one of those plays, at least for me, that makes me think, "ohhhhhh, THIS is what theater can do. this is using its medium to the absolute utmost." it is so clever and it makes me want to cry. i think about "i don't know. it's the same sky" more often than i can say

american moor by keith hamilton cobb: not exactly a retelling, but a one-man play about a Black man auditioning for the lead role in Othello, tangling as he does with his relationship with shakespeare's work and cultural dominance. suuuuuch a good fucking play even beyond the analysis of othello (which is excellent); the language is so fucking incredible. everyone who likes shakespeare should read this.

teenage dick by mike lew: modern teenage richard iii; this one's more reimagining than retelling, because it diverges pretty sharply from the plot of richard iii, but god, it's so fucking fun. and upsetting! really upsetting also.

foul is fair by hannah capin: i will be so real. i read this in high school and some of the YA books i've revisited since did not hold up for me. so idk if i can tell you this is "good" with my full chest. but the pitch is "lady macbeth gets sexually assaulted at a party and decides to fucking kill the boys who did it" and i stayed up until like 1am to finish it because it was such a vicious gleaming wild ride

the stars undying by emery robin: does this count? hard to say, because it's just as much a retelling of roman history than shakespeare's antony and cleopatra (honestly, more, since it focuses on the era where caesar and cleopatra were lovers, which is before shakespeare's play). but i'm counting it anyway because it's bisexual space opera cleopatra and it's the best book i've read so far in 2024 and it's making me crazy and i'm writing a thesis on it < genuinely

peerless by jihae park: macbeth, but college applications, featuring asian macbeths (they're twin sisters >:3) who think their classmate has taken their place in their dream school because of affirmative action/DEI. this play is absolutely VICIOUS. it's macbeth x heathers. think it mirrors macbeth in faltering a little in its final stretch, but it still fucks hard

the wednesday wars by gary d. schmidt: okay, not a retelling; this is about a preteen boy in the 60s. but it's one of the best most genuine and heartwarming books i've ever read and it manages to be hilarious while also foregoing cheap slapstick punching-low humor for a hell of a lot of warmth and passion. and the main character interacts with shakespeare a lot as a running theme so i can justify putting it on this list. #evangelizing

of course, i would be remiss not to mention that @suits-of-woe / @mjulianwrites has written the best take on Two Gentlemen of Verona to ever exist, and i mean that quite seriously. unfortunately it hasn't been published yet so we'll all just have to prayer-circle about it. i would also be remiss not to take the opportunity to. uh. coughs. do a bit of casual self-promo. if you 1. have ocd 2. have gender or 3. think about malvolio a lot. boy do i have the novella for you

will definitely add to this when i read more retellings; feel free to drop recs in the tags/replies/reblogs/my askbox!

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura Manga Vol 5 Animate Bonus SS

Series: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! Author: Satoru Yamaguchi Source: Manga Vol 5 Bonus (Animate) Synopsis: Katarina tries on Keith's clothes for cosplay. Translation: maboroshi-no

Translation below ⮟

I, Katarina Claes, was staring at the table in my room, thinking with my arms folded. 

Katarina: No matter how I look at it, they are Keith's clothes.

That's right. Those clothes were the everyday clothes of my little brother Keith.

A new servant probably brought them here by mistake after doing laundry. Once they realized their mistake, they would probably bring them to Keith's room, but… Wasn't that my chance? Now I wanted to try them on.

Ah, no, it wasn't for some weird reason; it was simply for cosplay…Hmm, that might sound plenty weird too, actually? Anyway, this was the world of the otome game I played in my past life, and Keith was a capture target in it. In other words, those clothes were, so to speak, the costume of a capture target. When I thought about this, the desire to try it on for cosplay bubbled up.

In my past life, cosplay was out of reach for me because, being a student, I didn't have money. So I had yearned for it just a little bit. In this life, I had indeed worn cosplay-like costumes like dresses and others, but the clothes of a capture target were a completely different matter. Alright, I'll just try on his jacket for a bit.

And so, I put on Keith's jacket.

Katarina: Oooh! It is unexpectedly big!

The jacket was unexpectedly big, so it looked oversized on me, and I couldn't get my hands out. Even though we weren't so different when we were little, it seemed like my little brother had grown up so much before I knew it.

Katarina: Hmmm, if it's so oversized, it won't feel like cosplaying.

For now, I struck up a pose in front of the mirror, but it felt off. This kind of thing was probably fun when making clothes that matched our sizes, not when wearing the clothes of the person. As I felt a little dejected, I heard a knock on my door.

Keith: Are you here, Big Sister? Can I come in?

Keith seemed to have come to see me. As always, I told him, "Sure, come in". Then Keith came in, saw me wearing his jacket, and froze up.

Keith: …Big Sister, you're wearing…

Katarina: Ah!

That's right! I was wearing Keith's jacket and pretending to cosplay him. I completely forgot about it.

Katarina: Ah, umm, I just tried it out of curiosity… But as you see, it looks oversized on me. You have grown so big, Keith.

I flusteredly said this, but for some reason, Keith hung his head down and started trembling.

"He'll get mad at me again!" I resigned myself to this, but… for some reason, Keith just turned on his heels and left my room.

Katarina: …Huh? What's with him? Oh, well, I'm glad he didn't get mad at me.

After that, I took off his jacket, carefully folded it, and put it back on my table.

[billthedrake]

LINEAGE (PART SEVENTEEN)

Junior went golfing without me that Saturday. It was the week before his graduation, and things were just busy around the house. Braden was starting to get tired more with the triplets growing in him, so I was doing my best to help out with household stuff and looking after the twins. And I carved out the morning to spend with Evan and Keith in the weight room and tossing football in the backyard in the afternoon.

Besides, I felt it would be good for Junior to have some bonding time with Todd. The pregnancy news was thrilling at first, then awkward, then it began to feel right. Just another way our two incestuous families, Drakes and Fiedlers, were being brought together.

I half thought that Junior and Todd would have sex after the links, but I could tell my son was in a horny state of mind when he came home right before dinner.

"Should I be concerned that you're doing the cooking tonight, Dad?" he asked as he came into the kitchen and stepped behind me. He gripped my shoulders and gave them a soft playful squeeze.

"Hey kiddo..." I said, turning to face him, mock annoyed. "Would you rather make dinner?"

He smiled. "Keith will just complain whatever I make, so, no..."

He had his ball cap on and some sun had freshly reddened his nose and cheeks. My son-boyfriend was 18 but already looking more manly by the day.

Junior turned his head and met me for a kiss.

We'd amended that one of "Dad's Rules" - the one about signs of affection in front of his brothers. Junior's younger brothers were used to it now. Hand holding, my arm on Junior's shoulders as we watched TV or on his knee, gentle pecks on the lips. That kind of thing.

This was not a gentle peck. It was deep tongue sexual kiss.

Junior was way horny when he pulled back. "I don't ask this much, Dad, but can you be with me tonight?"

I'd check with Brade, and Brade would give the OK. "Yes," I said. "Fiedler didn't take care of you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "He offered," my son said. "But it's been almost a week since you and I..."

It had been a busy week. Not even time for a quickie blowjob.

I reached up and stroked his cheek. "Sorry, Son."

Junior shook his head. "Don't apologize, Dad. But I want you, sir."

We kissed again, deeply, until Junior pulled back with a grin on his face. "I better go wash up and get ready for dinner."

I patted his arm and told him to let his brothers know dinner would be in 20 minutes.

I got the meal pretty much ready and went to my bedroom. Braden was there, reclining in bed and reading his tablet. I felt bad for lusting after him at moments when the pregnancy was becoming less fun for him, but the belly was swelling in his T-shirt and adding to his over all meaty mass.

"Hey, Son... you good to join for dinner?" I said as I knocked on the door frame.

Braden set down the tablet and looked up with a gentle smile. "Yeah, Dad. Just tired is all. I'll be there in a few."

"Junior's wrangling up the other boys," I said.

"Gonna be a lot more wrangling going on soon, Dad."

I nodded. Maybe I was hornier than I realized, but my dick was chubbing at that thought. Even if the actual work of parenting was going to be off the charts hectic. "I'll be there for you, Brade. I'll get some more flex time at the office."

Braden sat up, making his pregnancy stomach seem bigger and rounder. He was less than five months into his pregnancy and looked around 7 and a half months along. "It's a ways away, Dad," he said. He slid out of bed. God, Braden was so fucking hot, and would get even hotter over the next few months.

Still, there was Junior. "So Brade... OK if I spend the night with Junior tonight?"

He smiled. "Of course, Dad. You don't have to ask."

"It's just..." I started to explain. But I wasn't even sure what I was trying to say.

Braden laughed. "Bill's your boyfriend, Dad. And he wants his Dad time, too." He paused and asked, "You think he's...?"

I shook my head. "Don't know. Don't think so. Ever since knocking up Fiedler, he's gotten real into being a breeder. It's all he can talk about," I said.

Braden laughed. "The kid's enthusiastic, I'll give him that."

I stepped up and kissed my husband. "You're the best Brade," I said softly afterward.

***

Dinner was normal family time. It might get harder to arrange once the triplets arrived, but the twins were now old enough for regular chairs and calm enough to sit through a meal behaved. Evan and Keith were getting excited for the coming summer and in a good mood. We had some football camp lined up for them, and Evan had been invited to join his friend's family at the beach. We'd have our own Drake vacation too.

Evan even offered to do the dishes and clean up. I think he wanted me and Brade to see him as not a kid anymore. And he wasn't. Our second eldest was barreling squarely into his teenage years, the growth spurt kicking in and with it the grocery bill. That would only get higher, I thought with a wince. I'd done some detailed budgeting and even got Junior involved since he was interested in learning personal finance. With my salary and bonuses, I had it covered, but kids are expensive for sure.

Junior and I had some eye contact during family time in the den, but we waited until his Daddy and his brothers had gone to bed.

"Ready for the triplets?" Junior asked quietly as we sat on the couch.

"Always eager for more sons," I said. "Your Daddy does a lot of the work," I added.

"I know," Junior said. "He's amazing, Dad." I didn't know what he thought about bearing a kid himself, now, and I wasn't going to press him on this.

Junior scooted closer to me. I put my hand on his chest, feeling the bulk through the thin T-shirt as we leaned in for a kiss. We started with some soft tongue. It had been a long time since we'd had a longer session, actually. Usually it was a quickie suck or rim, or if we had a little more time then a 69.

"Ready to go to my room, Dad?" Junior finally asked.

I nodded. "Been patiently waiting all evening."

That got a laugh from my son. "God, my Dad's so fucking sexy." He traced his fingers along my shoulder, his eyes taking in all of me.

"Right back at ya, kiddo," I said.

We kissed again before finally pulling back. We stood up, erections evident in our shorts. Junior took my hand and we walked through the halls. It was strangely innocent and date-like.

But when we shut the room door, we began peeling off our clothes.

"You're looking really fucking good, Junior," I said, pulling my briefs off and letting my hardon stand up in excitement. Junior's body was killer. Still youthful but responding particularly well to his workouts.

The compliment thrilled him. "Yeah, Dad?" he asked. He paused and kind of posed for me, then slid off his jock strap. Our dicks looked so much alike, though I had a smidge extra length on him.

"God yes," I said. "Bring it in, kiddo."

Our naked bodies connected as we kissed. The slow build up of the day was coming to a boil now. Junior and I groped each other as we made out and humped against one another. I finally guided him back to the bed. My son was chuckling a little as he fell back onto the mattress.

"You gonna suck my cock Dad?" he asked in horniness as he watched me crouch in front of him at the edge of the bed.

I shook my head. "Lift your legs, kiddo... been to long since you're dad's feasted on that jock hole of yours."

"Fuck yes," Junior hissed and pulled his legs back. I could see the soft short hairs around his pucker and that smooth tight ring waiting for me.

I leaned in and licked. I kissed his asshole and felt the excitement surge through me.

"Eat my fucking ass, Dad," Junior said. "It's all fuckin' yours, sir."

I did. Going deeper, I tongued my son-boyfriend's hole. Junior enjoyed being eaten in a way Braden never did, and I was going to take advantage. I rooted around deeper.

"Wanna me to sit on your face, Dad?" Junior finally asked.

"Fuck yeah," I growled. I stood up, rock hard. Even Junior was surprised by the intensity of my kiss. And he melted into it, pulling me down to the bed. I was the luckiest dad in the world, to have both Brade and Junior in my life like this.

We didn't get to the face sitting. Instead we made out on Junior's bed, clinging to one another and kissing deep. I grunted as Junior wrapped his legs around me. My son was worked up, in heat even.

"Dad... the lube's out..." he hissed. Junior was in heat for sure, and a good chance he was at peak fertility.

I almost took him right then and there, but I leaned up and looked into his eyes. "Buddy... maybe we should consider a condom tonight," I said.

He seemed surprised and maybe a little hurt. "You having second thoughts, Dad?"

I shook my head and ran my hand along his cheeks. "Just the opposite, Junior. But this would be a huge change for you. It'd put your life on hold."

I felt his body shiver some beneath me and his cheeks flush pink. "My life is being your boyfriend, Dad. And everything that means."

"You know what I mean," I admonished him. I was SO horny but also had to be in Dad mode, in addition to boyfriend mode.

"I do, Sir. We'll figure it out. School, golf, everything. I'll make it work. Promise."

I flashed a paternal grin. "You want this, huh, kiddo?"

He nodded. "So bad, sir. For years." He paused as his eyes took in all of me that he could and as his hands ran along my strong chest. "I'm not jealous, Dad, not really. But I always wanted what you and Daddy have."

The kid's sincerity melted my heart. Maybe there were still a bunch of reasons we shouldn't do this, but I gave a quick nod and reached over to pump out some lube into my palm.

"Fuck yes," Junior exclaimed. He looked into my eyes in lust as I reached down and lubed my hard prick, taking a second to finger some on his pucker. "No rubber, right, Dad?"

"No rubber," I assured him. I scooted forward and nudged my raw dick against him. "We're gonna make a kid."

I didn't draw it out, but just pushed into Junior.

"Oh Shit!" he let out. Not in pain but in surprise by how turned on he was by the sudden penetration. "Impregnate me, Dad!"

I thrust in, all the way in. It had been at least a month since I'd fucked my son, and his guts felt tight and amazing. As snug as they were, they seemed to suck me in. I held steady and looked into Junior's eyes. "Love you, kiddo. So much."

"God. Love you too Dad."

I pulled out and thrust back in. Fucking Junior. His legs wrapped around me. "Is this how you fucked Daddy when you made me?"

He was gonna get to me, and I was already worked up like crazy. "It was. This is your Daddy's favorite position."

"Not yours," Junior said clinging to my thrusting body. It was a statement rather than a question. My boyfriend knew I enjoyed variety and more animalistic sex.

"It's the right one when making a son with a man you love," I assured him.

"Fuck, Dad... I'm gonna cum."

He wasn't there, not quite yet, but his thrill made me put more power to my thrusts and speed them up. I wanted to get Junior to the finish line. "Cum for your Dad, Junior.... it'll make your womb open up for my seed."

He nodded, words hard to form. "I want you to make me pregnant, Dad."

I growled, putting my whole body into this fuck. "As pregnant as your Daddy."

The image crystalized for both of us. Junior with triplets. It wouldn't happen, but that didn't matter. The idea had my son cumming hard beneath me and my own pleasure rising quickly. I was three or four strokes behind his orgasm. I focused on the mission of sending my potent seed into my beautiful Bill Jr. and making an incest kid with him.

I nearly passed out when I came, it was that good.

"YES!" Junior exclaimed, watching me cum and pulling me into him for maximum penetration.

We both caught our breaths and smiled. And laughed at the overwhelming emotion.

"You never told me breed sex was that hot."

I smiled. "You've knocked up two men yourself, son."

He laughed and had a real proud look on his face. "Yes, sir. Didn't know I was doing it at the time. I wanna feel that sometime."

"You will," I said. Junior and I hadn't talked enough about him doing other men, but I knew it was inevitable.

"You wouldn't mind?" he asked, his smile giving way to some concern.

I leaned up and started to ease out, but Junior stopped. "Don't pull out, Dad," he objected. "Not yet."

"OK," I said. I wasn't going soft anytime soon, even if it would be an hour or two before I was ready for round two. The break would give me and Junior more time to talk. I reached down and slowly ran my fingers along his amazing smooth chest, which was damp with his liquefied seed. "You know... your Daddy teases me for being oblivious about your emotions. And he's right, Junior... but I know you better than you think."

He bit his lip. "Dad... I'm scared. I want this, really, I do. But I'm scared as fuck."

I caressed his body. "I know, kiddo." I reached down and touched his dick. Still hard, too. "You got this, though."

"I wasn't gonna tell you, Dad."

I felt so much love for my son. "Junior... we're making a son together. You can tell me anything."

"You too, Dad," he said softly. "You can tell me, stuff."

I thrust up into my son.

"We fucking again?" he asked in surprise.

I grinned and shook my head. "Not yet. Just pushing my seed deep into you."

He laughed. "Fuck!" He seemed to be dealing with the implications of the moment.

"You can be honest, Junior," I said. "You feel any regrets now the deed is done?" I mean, there was a good chance he was pregnant but we didn't have to bareback any more if he wasn't.

"Honest, Dad?" Junior replied. "No regrets. I'm scared, but this is right."

We kissed some and finally uncoupled. Junior and I talked about what this meant for him and his determination to make college work. I promised him I'd help with the childrearing, but we'd have to work out the details.

I opened up, too. Telling Junior how I loved the power of making sons, particularly with my own sons. How thrilling it was to be granddad in addition to a dad.

"Fuck, Dad, that's so hot," Junior said as he snuggled up against me. His head was resting on my chest affectionately and he looked up. "You ready to be a great-granddad now?" he asked.

I hadn't even thought of that. My dick had softened but now it hardened up. "Damn, Junior," I growled.

That made him smile. "I'm gonna give you a total incest kid, Dad."

We kissed hard. Romantic, but also a sexual kiss. Heavy tongues battling sucking at one another.

Junior eased off. "Any chance you didn't get the job done earlier, Dad?"

My voice croaked. "There's a chance, Junior."

I watched him scramble onto all fours on the mattress. This wasn't gonna be as romantic a fuck as before. Already I was getting into a kneeling position behind him, admiring his back and amazing ass. "Jesus," I hissed. I ran my hands along his butt muscle and lower back.

Junior looked back at me. "I want our son conceived in every fucking position of incest sex, sir."

I pumped the lube. Maybe I wouldn't need it, but this fuck was gonna harder.

Junior let out an "oof" when I entered him again. But I held onto his hips and pumped his hard. And he got into. "Do it, Dad. Fuck me hard."

"Mating with you, Son."

"Hell fuckin yeah."

Hips slapped against my boyfriend's ass. His ass bucked back against me, egging me on. "There's an egg to fertilize in there, sir.... do it, Dad... give me a baby brother."

"God, I wanna kiddo... so bad."

"Do it!" Junior gasped. My cock was hitting his spot and I watched his hand leave the mattress to jerk his cock while the other arm braced his weight from the onslaught. I was driving into him pretty hard now.

"Fuckin' you, kiddo," I growled. I was losing my knack for verbal response now. My balls drawing up with more seed to deliver. I wanted to knock my son up so bad, and I knew there was a good chance it hard already happened.

"William John Drake the third," Junior hissed. "Make it a reality, Dad."

That did it. My cum shot hard into my son as I gasped and collapsed onto this muscular sweaty back. I heaved against him and felt him jerk out his own orgasm with him still buried in me. I gave a soft kiss against his neck while he gave it up, shouting and letting out a couple of curse words. Braden would probably hear from the nearby room, but thankfully Junior's room was removed from his brothers'.

"So hot, Dad," he finally said.

We were exhausted from the sex and it was now about 1AM. We collapsed in bed and pulled up the covers. We didn't need to talk now. Junior turned out the lamp, and I snuggled against him and draped my arm over his built, sweaty body. Smelling the sex and cum and remnants of my cologne he'd taken to wearing.

Before we drifted asleep though, I couldn't resist running my hand down his torso and over his taut stomach. Where a new life would be growing before long. "So... Bill the Third, huh?"

"Yes, sir," came his response, sleepy but sincere. It reminded me of when Junior was a little boy trying to stay up past his bed time and pretending he wasn't sleepy. Bill III would probably do the same thing.

My hand now lazily stroked his abs. "Your Daddy can't wait for you to be pregnant at the same time as him.... I can't wait either." I hadn't told Junior what Braden had said to me. But now that it was becoming reality, I wanted Junior to know the dual pregnancy excited me too.

"Mmm," he muttered. The idea appealed to him, too.

I held my son just like that, hand on his belly, imagining our future together. Imagining our son. My cock firmed up again, though I was completely spent.

"You're hard, Dad," Junior said softly.

"Yeah," I replied.

I don't know which of us fell asleep first, but it didn't take long.

[mneiai]

My personal ratings for a bunch of Ikemen Prince characters:

(They're in alphabetical order. Vague spoilers for multiple routes.)

(See my current route ratings here)

Akatsuki: 9/10

Really fun character, love him every time he gets significant screentime, especially Gilbert's and Rio's routes, desperately hope he's a major character in the upcoming new prince stuff. Loses a point because he's the number one supporter of Belle being his daughter, but constantly denies it, too (just adopt her already omg). Pretty sure he's actually an information broker and not a bookseller? Would be cool if he were like head of the stereotypical rofan information guild.

Azel: 7/10

Only know the bare minimum about him so far and that he's disappointingly pale, also that he is very, very punchable seeming. I've got high hopes for his route! (But right now am just shipping him with Silvio)

Chevalier: 3/10

Occasionally interesting, backfires for me because he'd be so much better if they'd just let him be a villain instead of trying to have their cake and eat it, too. A huge victim of failures to both "show don't tell" and of successfully writing a character who is smarter than the writers. Too good at anything with more or less fake weaknesses. Huge disappointment, his presence is almost always a reminder of how much cooler he could have been interspersed with a few scenes where he actually gets to shine. Also constantly annoyed at his warmonger imperialism being treated as a perfectly good philosophy for Rhodolite's king to have instead of a major flaw. And if he was half as smart as he supposedly is, he'd never even want the throne because of how much that would limit his mobility and ability to hide what he's doing (another way Gilbert is the superior character).

Clavis: 7/10

Better in other routes/events than his own, when there's a "is he or isn't he?" mystique around his loyalty and where he gets to be a true chaos monkey. Especially because he's not considered one of the geniuses, but in multiple routes he very much seemed to be thinking so many steps ahead he might be psychic. Normally he's creepy in the best of ways. Don't really get his motivations all things considered, but I'm also pro-killing-Chev-off.

Cyran: 15/10

Best character in the game. Clever, funny, caring, cutting dry humor. Who else could spend so much time with Clavis without committing a murder? Total bullshit we can't romance him. Let me leave Clavis/Chev/whoever for him, damn you, game. Clavis should hilariously non-consensually adopt him so he can count as a prince and be an LI. Or let him lead a peasant revolt and become prime minister or something.

Gilbert: 10/10

Most aesthetically pleasing model in the game, could stare at him on my screen forever. Love yanderes, like how he's still a little freaky about the MC in many other routes even if they can't make him a yandere there (I've got a whole theory how there's like three different Gilbert timelines a route could be using lol). Somehow does not suffer from the same issues as Chev despite also being way smarter than any writer, we constantly get shown just how clever he is in meaningful ways. Actually has a real, very serious weakness (loved seeing it in Silvio's route). Also ruining his own vision for aesthetics, which is hilarious. Would be 11/10, but loses a point for obsessing over purity (boring) instead of obsessing over corrupting others (hot). Definitely abusive, but he's literally the main antagonist of the game so that's expected.

Jin: 3/10

Listen, I don't care about his tragic backstory, his and his parents' trauma, or anything else, what I care about is how horribly written Clause 99 is. He had years to come up with something and wrote that absolute dogshit? AND is totally inconsistent about enforcing it and what exactly it means. Leon's Clause 100 is what Clause 99 should have been. Also he somehow manages to come off as an even bigger creeper than Nokto and Clavis combined half the time.

Keith (Kind): 6/10

A little too wishywashy and weak at first, but by the end of his route he's gotten a lot better, of course, and he is still very kind across other routes. I always feel bad for him dealing with Wicked Keith's bullshit (like in Silvio's route oof), it would be like if Licht and Nokto shared a body. Weird mix of super naive and totally aware of the danger he's in, frustratingly passive at points.

Keith (Wicked): 7/10

Prefer him to Kind Keith, kind of love the theory he's the original which honestly would be so much more interesting. Loses a point for that roofie event and other similar 'trying to make people hate Kind Keith' bs, which is normally very gross, but also he's sort of an antagonist so I get why they have him do it. Could be way more yandere, even if he can't be possessive about Belle and Kind Keith.

Leon: 9/10

It's okay to be an actually nice guy who actually cares about people, especially when accompanied by the bleakest backstory in the game and every reason to want to burn the world down. Biggest letdown is how often they ignore his power and influence to instead have Chevalier shine by himself or against Gilbert, who also could have made an amazing contrast with Leon if they'd allowed a three way rivalry between them. His supportiveness to everyone and willingness to take risks to protect people even if they don't deserve it is chef's kiss and not utilized nearly enough. Should just always be made king in every route, he's the best option in all of them (except if we abolished the monarchy!! which he also would probably accept).

Licht: 6/10

I wish I liked his character design a little more, because this sad boy is very adorable, personality wise. Doesn't really have a presence in most routes, though (he barely even appears in most of them), and even in events where it's him he's kind of blah to me.

Luke: 7/10

Okay actually this is my least favorite of the character designs, just not aesthetically appealing to me at all. But I'm into siscon characters and I like his backstory, and twisted relationship with Gilbert. Biggest drawback is how often he's just sort of this innocent background character in most routes when he should always at least have major hints at not being so. Also 1/10 for not dismantling the monarchy. Boo.

Lydia/Lidia: 10/10

Best mother in the game (sorry, Sariel). Kind, clever, regal. She started as a commoner, but is very much the image of a queen, so fuck you fourth prince's mother saying commoners can't cut it. Her name was spelled both ways in the brief time we saw her and that just shows how much attention is given to other female characters, alas.

Matthias: 4/10

The initial design/introduction of him definitely leaves me thinking he's infinitely kickable--kinda fashy seeming Aryan guy? yeah, no. But I've been trying to read some fan translations of his events and stuff and I'm starting to understand why he seems like such a fan favorite. Still not sure how I'll actually feel about him, though, once we get his route.

Nokto: 4/10

I still haven't forgiven him for not even apologizing after almost getting Belle raped in the very rapey situation he dragged her into in Leon's route and also for being an unbelievable creeper in a bunch of other routes/events. I don't care if "threaten to SA a person to get them to leave me alone" is his go-to, it's still threatening to SA someone. Since trying to play ikevil Alfons route I'm a bit more lenient towards Nokto, though. I like his character design more than Licht's, though that's not saying much (neither of them hold a candle to William, anyway).

Rio: 8/10

I had this guy totally wrong, but it took reading his own route to figure that out so minus a point for that, but love him after reading his route (also great in Silvio's). He's much stronger and smarter than I thought. The amnesia thing is a bit contrived, I kind of wish he'd been faking it first because he wanted a break and then because he fell in love. Not really sure why he also pushes the idea that he can't be with Belle even after he finds out who he is, clearly his parents would let him.

Roderic 8/10

For the love of god, they need to do an event where he's friends with Leon, I can't take the elephant in the room whenever they're around each other. Anyway, good character, good use of tropes and all, I like how he's so loyal and obedient, but like still can pushback some against Gilbert. Obviously aesthetically pleasing. Also very ninja.

Sariel: 5/10

I like what he is, but at the same time I'm hugely disappointed in what he's not, kinda like a better version of what's going on with Chev. The prologue sold him as way more manipulative and wicked than he ended up being, I thought he'd be more of an antagonist, maybe even a power hungry grey eminence pushing Belle towards choosing a weak king he could manipulate or something. Instead he's very Exhausted Eldest Sibling vibes and helpful in that 'Annoying Teacher Trying to Get the Student to Figure Things Out On Their Own' way. Also not kinky enough by half for someone running around with a whip.

Silvio: 6/10

Unnecessarily abusive towards the MC and his "reason" for hating women is just a bullshit excuse, the writers didn't even try to justify using that trope. Should be far kinkier for someone that into collars, very disappointing. I do like his relationship with Rio a ton, though, and wish we'd gotten more of them during his route. He's cool at the end of his route and I really like his interactions with Gilbert.

Yves: 5/10

I just really don't like cutesy tsunderes and I'm not a fan of his character model in general. He's nice enough in most routes/events and great as a friend/wingman, just not really LI material to me. Wish they'd done more with his Obsidianite background in more routes.

[max-the-many]

Hello, I need your help. My best friend got cheated by her boyfriend, an homophobic douchebag that is in love with himself. He always makes fun of me when she is not looking and now he cheated on her.Can you give him his money back? Trapping him inside a gay bottom twink or something? Your pice will be mine. He deserves the worst for what he did!

When I read this I was hooked immediately. Not that I really cared to be honest. I mean, it is bad what he did, but for me, it was mostly an excuse. There's something really satisfying dealing with such a guy.

So I got on the road the same night. Luckily it wasn't that far. Antony even gave me the name of a bar where that guy frequently hung out so as it was friday, the urge to get there was even stronger.

When I got in, I couldn't see him based on the pictures Anthony provided. So I sat down to have a drink. The bar was moderately busy and I looked around, wondering if anyone could maybe help as there surely would be several knowing Lyle.

So eventually I started chatting to a guy sitting next to me. He actually knew Lyle, but just barely from the bar. He showed me another dude, though, that should be closer to Lyle.

It probably was a bit weird to ask about him like that even though I pretended to wait for him. But that guy didn't seem to care.

So I didn't care either, especially when that friend of Lyle went to the restrooms.

‘Why not’ I thought, going after him.

When I got in, he stood infront of a pissoir, his body nicely framed, a bit leaner than Lyle but easily some kind of gymbuddy.

‘Classic’ I thought when I saw him there, the room otherwise empty besides a closed stall.

But this wouldn't be the first time I acted in such a situation so I stepped to the urinal besides him, prepared to hit him with a shot as soon as he was finished, dragging him into the next stall, making sure not to be too rampant.

As he was sitting on the toilet seat infront of me I really got excited. He really wasn't the worst to slip in. Short hair, stumbled face, sporty, wearing a casual T and rather tight jeans which I was happy to get off now.

Seeing him naked, getting flatter and flatter only added to the appeal while I got naked myself.

As I eventually stepped out in my new persona the guy from the other stall was washing his hands, watching me suspiciously.

“What is it?" I hit him, getting quite the kick on speaking with my new voice the first time, but the other guy didn't reply.

Back in the bar nothing much had changed. So I went to the guys I saw my new persona with. Turned out to be a pretty good source of information, giving me quite some insight of Lyle though they probably exaggerated as he probably did to them as well. But after that I was pretty sure that he wasn't cheating just that one time. Unfortunately it turned out that he wouldn't be in the bar tonight. But this shouldn't be a problem at all as I got his address, making a bit of a fool of myself as the guy I was in probably would have known it already.

After another drink I eventually heading out, searching for the car the keys in my pocket belonged to. Took quite a while to be honest.

10 minutes later I stood in front of a small bungalo. Light was on. So I stopped onto the porch.

“Lyle?” I knocked. But nothing happened. When I listened at the door I could clearly hear voices, movement. So I knocked again louder. “Lyle, common! It's Keith!” I added.

Another moment passed until I heard footsteps. Then the door opened.

“What the fuck!” was passed along while a topless Lyle appeared, having his belt open, clearly coming from some business he wasn't keen on being disturbed from.

“You got company?” I asked cheekily which he answered with an annoyed nod.

And I don't know what really crossed my mind, but more on instinct than on a clear plan I quickly reached into my pocket, pulled out a syringe and stuck it into his waist before he could even begin to wonder.

I smiled, pushed my way in and looked around.

“What just…Keith?”

A girl was sitting on a couch separating the entrance to a living area, turning her head at the scene I was providing, just wearing a bra and clearly not being his girlfriend.

“Ah! I'm sorry. He seemed to have forgotten our plans” I said, taking the steps towards her to give her another shot as she was frozen in irritation.

“Caught in the act” I smiled, walking around the couch to get a good look. She was quite cute with long, dark blonde hair and good equipment under her bra.

As I saw them both, now on their way to be good suits, an idea came to mind. Something I haven't done or even thought of so far. But when it got to my mind I had no other chance than to do it. It was just the perfect opportunity.

So I got to Lyle dragged him to the couch before getting him naked, doing the same to his date. Then came the tricky part, but I really was determined.

A good half an hour, it was ready. Sitting on the couch, just wearing her tight slip was that girl. Or should I say, both of them, neatly tied up on hand and feet.

“What…” she got out, clearly still busy. But as she let out her first words a certain look came on to her eyes.

“Where…” again she froze, looking around and finally down at herself.

“What is this! What…” she let out again, not able to process the situation, finally looking at me.

“Keith, what is this! And why am I… my voice… my…” she said looking down at herself. Or should I say, himself.

“Isn't it nice to see the world from a new perspective for once?” I said, looking at her with a devious smile before coming closer.

“She got quite the bod” I said “Isn't she?” while my hand slid over her voluminous breasts.

“Don't!” he stuttered.

“Or what? You seemed to liked her pretty much” I replied “and I can't complain. That face, those tits, and not to miss what awaits down there” I said, stroking along her body before diving between her legs.

“What… ahh” he let out in a mixture of anger and discontent.

“Don't you wonder what pleasures all those chicks get with your manly work?”

His eyes widened. “You…” was all he was able to get out before I pulled up the cloth around his neck, limiting him to nothing more than muffled sounds when I took his hand to lead it towards my crotch.

“We will have a lot of fun”...

---

Whomever sent this request. Feel free to reach out.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance gets red around him a lot.

It’s strange.

It’s different from when they first started. (First met? Keith’s not sure. Lance is so insistent that they’ve known each other since they were twelve, but Keith thinks he’d recognise someone like Lance, someone who smiled that brightly and laughed so loud. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t, so he doesn’t think about it. He pretends in his head that they met saving Shiro and that’s that.) When they first started learning each other (that’s a better way to put it), Lance went red all the time, but Keith knew exactly what that was about, could read the hard set of his jaw and the anger making his dark eyes steely. Sometimes he would grin to himself and make the flush on Lance’s cheeks deepen on purpose; say something incendiary and challenging in the most casual one of voice he could manage, just to watch how furious he got, how indignance straightened his spine and squared his shoulders and made his cheeks glow.

He called Lance Rudolph, once, and he went ballistic. It was the first time he ever won a spar of theirs, and half of that was because Keith was laughing too hard to breathe. To this day no one believes Lance when he insists it happened. (Keith does feel bad about that, a little. Everyone seems to think it was just Lance who egged Keith on in the beginning, just Lance who purposely made things difficult, but Keith is grown enough now to admit that he had as much fun pissing Lance off as anyone else would. Well, grown enough to admit it in his head.)

Keith still makes Lance go red all the time, now. The issue is that he doesn’t know how he does it.

They still compete. Obviously. It’s fun and it’s easy and Keith is a fan of things that are fun and easy. That’s why he’s into demolitions. And pod racing.

But the competition no longer has that flare of genuine rage. Lance himself had admitted it, sniffing pompously after a late night spar and informing Keith that he had, apparently, “sucked all the fun out of hating by being endearing or whatever”. He also mentioned something about Keith’s “stupid fucking big round pouty eyes and depressing backstory”, but Keith doesn’t know what to make of that so he shoves it back into the recesses of his mind like many other things, including the first time someone other than his Pa said they loved him, Shiro’s safety lectures, and any and all calculus lessons he has ever sat through.

(It’s a mess back there.)

Keith, too, can admit that the animosity is gone. He no longer wakes up and hears Lance’s voice and considers drop kicking him into a black hole. Sometimes he even hears Lance’s voice and realises he’s smiling on reflex. Now he and Lance hang out. Voluntarily, and a lot. They spar. They swim. They harass Hunk. They harass Pidge. They harass Shiro. They harass all their friends, really. Sometimes Lance uses manoeuvres he’s learnt in sparring to pin Keith to the ground and force weird products onto his face and hair, dodging Keith’s attempts to bite him, preaching about their cleansing qualities or whatever. Sometimes Keith even does it without hissing and generally being a nuisance.

Sometimes Keith follows Lance quietly to the observation, late at night, and sits with him while he cries. He can’t decide how he feels about those nights. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to think about them outside of when they happen.

In all of this, though, Lance’s ruddy face has stayed pretty common. Keith can excuse it when they’re sparring, because it’s admittedly a lot of cardio, but at the same time Keith doesn’t get that red and he’s way paler than Lance is. He can almost kind of excuse it when they swim, for the same reasons.

He doesn’t get it any other times, though. He doesn’t know why Lance goes red at the most innocuous things, like when Keith tells him his hair smells good or his laugh is pretty or he’s actually really good at that nerdy math game Pidge likes, holy crow, I didn’t know you were that kind of smart. Nerd. He doesn’t understand why Lance goes red when he trips and Keith catches him, ‘cause he’s a big klutz, you’d think he’d be used to it by now (it’s not like Keith is going to let him fall. Well, usually not). He doesn’t get why Lance goes red when Keith compliments him in training, because usually when Lance gets complimented he gets a big head about it and preens for an hour.

It’s just strange.

Mostly, though, it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe Lance is just a blushy kind of person. He’s taken to teasingly calling Lance Red, because it’s better than Rudolph, and also because Lance goes scarlet every time he says it, so it’s kind of like he’s a wizard who can make Lance flush on command. Which is cool. Other than that Keith mostly just pretends it doesn’t happen. They hang out too much for Keith to bother. If he questioned it every time, he would go bananas.

“You have icing smeared on your face,” Keith comments on one such hanging out occasion. (They’re plundering the kitchen for the cupcakes Hunk made and specifically forbade them from touching. But Hunk allegedly broke into Lance’s room last week and stole the last of his toner, whatever the hell that is, so fair’s fair.)

Lance pops the last of the cupcake into his mouth then turns to face him. “Where?”

“Here,” Keith says, tapping the left side of his own chin.

Lance, like a dumbass, makes a swiping motion on the left side of his face, instead of mirroring where Keith touched. He misses the icing entirely.

“Left side,” Keith says, exasperatedly.

Lance scowls at him. “That is the left side.”

“No — the other left.”

“There is no other left! There’s only one left!”

Rolling his eyes, Keith reaches over to wipe the icing off for him. There cannot be any evidence on them, after all. When Hunk has a conniption over his missing cupcakes they must play the plausible deniability card so they can snicker about it later.

He swipes his thumb under Lance’s bottom lip, trying to scrape the icing off with his thumbnail. Lance inhales sharply.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, softening his grip. He must have scratched him. The icing didn’t come off, though, so he switches tactics and slides off the counter, shifting so he’s standing in between Lance’s open legs and cradling Lance’s cheek in his palm to tilt his head. He rubs his thumb much softer on the stubborn streak of whipped sugar, and that works a little better. He keeps rubbing until finally Lance’s skin is clear, all the half-dried icing now spread on the pad of Keith’s thumb. He licks it off without thinking.

It’s sweet.

Lance makes a strained whimpering noise. Keith flicks his gaze up to meet his face again and is less surprised than he should be to see a flush glowing across his cheekbones, making his freckles seem much darker than they are. His pupils are dilated so wide they nearly swallow up the brown of his irises, and Keith can’t tell if he’s looking at him or through him.

He sighs heavily. “Dude, do you have a condition?”

It takes Lance a long moment to answer. By the time he finally does, his gaze has moved firmly to his lap, neck bent so that Keith can’t really see his face. His ears are still read.

“I’ve got a fuckin’ heart condition,” he mutters.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. That’s weird. He’s seen Lance’s medical scans before — he’s in the pods a lot. You’d think that kind of thing would be on there.

“It doesn’t show up on your med scans,” Keith points out. “Is it, like, a genetic thing?”

Slowly, Lance picks his head back up, squinting at him for several long moments. Keith begins to squirm.

“You’re actually slow,” Lance says with an almost awed tone of voice. Which is mean. “Like, genuinely, actually slow. I think there are bubbles in your brain.”

“Hey,” Keith protests, pouting. “I help you commit cupcake heists, and this is how you treat me?”

Instead of answering, Lance continues to stare at him. He almost looks bewildered, which does nothing but make Keith more confused.

Eventually he lets out a long, tired sigh. It is not the first time Keith has heard that sigh. That is a sigh he hears when Shiro finds him throwing up his guts after eating a tub of ice cream out of spite. That’s the kind of sigh he hears from Allura when Keith ignores instructions and boulders through the shocks from the invisible maze to get it done faster. That’s the sigh that says I wish I had a trebuchet to strap you to it and release you into the sun. Keith is very familiar with that sigh, although he usually makes it happen on purpose, or at the very least understands how it’s warranted.

Right now he is completely lost.

“I am going to go bother Coran,” Lance says finally, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards the door. “You are not invited. I will talk to you when I want to strangle you less. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Keith calls out, head tilted in confusion. He watches Lance go until he disappears down the hallways.

“He is so confusing,” he announces to no one, then walks out the kitchen himself.

[losing-it-lately]

Night Shift

wc: 0.8k

steve harrington x reader

angst, up for a pt 2 but i need motivation. inspired by night shift by lucy dacus

Shifts at Family Video are usually long and boring, but now they're long and desolate; workdays become shift long reminders that Steve doesn't want you, not as a girlfriend, not as a friend and definitely not as a shift partner. How were you so deluded that you created months worth of ‘signs’ that he ‘liked’ you, when he probably didn't even actually like you as a person. Dustin always jokes about how Robin ‘so easily turned him down’, but Robin and Steve are still friends, best friends in fact, yet Steve didn't want to give you that courtesy.

Hell, he's still amiable with Nancy Wheeler who ripped his heart to shreds, but you? No, he just has to ignore you and change all of his shifts to closing ones or the really early morning ones that you would never think of signing up to. How does he even know which shifts you would never take and why does Keith keep giving him them? It's sick how quickly your loneliness spirals into faux fury; you weren't mad at Steve, instead you were mad at yourself and how it all fell to shit so quickly.

It was a party, and you were a little bit tipsy, and he looked so beautiful. You didn't even know Steve would be here, originally just turning up to have a fun night with your girls, but here he was. His beautiful brown eyes were wide eyed in the darkness of the random basement of the house party, and he was wearing a soft burgundy sweater; must've been a new sweater, because you definitely would have noticed him wearing that in one of your shared shifts. It was tight and seemed soft to the touch, but even softer was his hair. The product in it looked shiny and even so much as a gentle nod from Steve was enough to tousle his hair. He was taking your breath away.

Steve was distracting, too distracting and his constant gaze at the back of your head was taking your mind off of other things, like how many shots you had had and how late it was.

You were getting tired, and Steve could tell. He had only come tonight to see you, and see you he did; all your laughter and unabashed joy from your proximity to your friends was electric, even if he wasn't a part of it. But now it was late and you were quieter, so he made his way to your friends and asked if it was ok for him to return you home. Steve’s kind and normally, a guy doing this would raise all kinds of red flags, but after your countless ramblings and short introductions of Steve to your group, they knew how much you trusted him, and how much you cared about him. So your designated driver became Steve, and as he led you back to his car, a new kind of confidence began collecting in the pit of your stomach.

He brought you to the front seat and buckled you in, despite the lack of any clear ‘drunkenness’. You were just a little bit tipsy and a little bit ready to do things that you would only dream of doing. You fiddled with Steve's radio as if you frequented his car and you told him how beautiful he looked after you muttered your address, and when he finally stopped the car in front of your place, you offered for him to come inside.

Steve exited the car and came all the way around to your door. He opened the car door and let the light from the street lights filter onto your face; it created a small halo around his hair, and you were mesmerised. You could feel the soft burgundy cashmere under your fingertips after you placed your hands on his shoulders, as if you were bracing yourself before he unbuckled the seat belt. And as Steve gently places the seatbelt back, you felt something change in between you; your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, before one of you finally leaned in.

His lips were soft and they tasted like sobriety and the minty chapstick he prided himself on using. His sweater was warm underneath your fingers and Steve's chest was flush against yours as his hands rushed up and cradled your jaw. You kissed quick and strong and then he pulled away, “you're not sober.”

His eyes were suddenly filled with something harsh and hurt and hellish. “We can't do this. You don't want this,” his voice was quiet but his disapproval was loud. You felt exposed and awkward and stunted. What felt like paradise was brutally taken away so quickly. He escorted you to your doorstep in silence and then watched you return home with misery on your face.

Steve and you had kissed, and then you had stopped, and now, he wouldn't even see you.

[planetscobell]

I just posted my first post recently toooo!! Absolutely in love with the way you write and was wondering if you would write Two-Bit headcannons?? 🫶

— dating two-bit mathews headcanons ! ࿐

warnings : none!

— ✦ a/n : congrats on your first post, sweetheart! you ask and you shall receive, i love two-bit and emilio estevez with every fiber of my being LMAO. thank you for your request and the kind words– i hope you love this just as much as i loved writing these silly headcanons! LOVE YA! ♡

⊹ two-bit is a bizarre boyfriend, he is definitely not like anyone you’ve ever been with prior. he always has some crazy shenanigans up his non-existent sleeves. it’s never a dull moment in the mathews’s household, that’s for sure.

⊹ two-bit gives the best hugs. you know the ones. the ones that are always so warm, the ones where he squeezes you so tight you can just barely breathe, the ones where he lifts you up off the ground and spins around. a great big bear two-bit hug is always necessary. 

⊹ crazy ass nicknames for you are one of two-bit’s many strange specialties. the nicknames vary, but usually the nicknames are based on foods or random objects he’d seen that day, for example, booger nut, burnt pasta, and googly button, etc. he would also call you sweet names, like tid-bit (to match him), darling, puddin’, toots, and tater tot to keep it balanced.

⊹ physical touch is two-bit’s love language, therefore, pda is a must. he will be attached to your hip one way or another, whether it be him holding your hand, a hand on your waist, setting you on his lap and his arms wrapped snugly around your middle, a soft peck on the cheek, your back pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around your shoulders and his chin placed upon your head. 

⊹ he definitely begged if you two could be minnie and mickey mouse for halloween, which you obviously agreed to do so. his little sister tagged along as well, and was obviously pluto. you three ruled the east side of town. 

⊹ speaking of his little sister, two-bit once asked if you could teach him how to braid hair for his little sister, so the kids at school would stop making fun of her wild hair. now, he braids your hair for fun but always expects you to scratch his head afterwards. tit for tat. (he also loves twirling the ends of your hair literally whenever he can get the chance.)

⊹ still on the topic of his little sister, he wants to fall to his knees and ask you to marry him right then and there the moment he sees you playing dress up with his little sister. he loves how much his favorite gals adore each other. 

⊹ he makes the most god awful jokes, solely just to see your smile or hear you laugh uncontrollably. the sight of you happy makes his heart swell. 

⊹ if you’re a greaser or if you’re a soc, he will be stealing for you. need a new pair of shoes? two-bit already snagged the last and best pair– you want that pretty pearl necklace you saw in the window of a boutique? it somehow managed to slip into his pocket while he was browsing with you.

⊹ two-bit is quite frankly always drunk after 6pm, so always expect a lovey dovey two-bit at your doorstep at 12am asking for kisses and cuddles, or spending the night sleeping on the cold linoleum bathroom floor, rubbing his back. 

⊹ the whole gang, and sometimes himself forget that his birth name is actually keith, but when he remembers, he hates it when anyone refers him as keith– besides you. he thinks it’s hot as hell when you use his first name. 

[theoriginalriffles]

I’ve seen the basis of this trope a few times before, but let me expand and connect it to my new fic idea:

The gang going to space, all with their phones onhand. Lance and Hunk are freaking out about not being able to text their families, Pidge being like “okay I can’t fix that but I can keep our phones from dying”, and concocting some janked up chargers. Now their phones are all basically memory/time capsules. They all use them to look at and take photos (Lance especially), watch the TikTok’s and movies they have saved, and all of them abuse the hell out of their pre downloaded playlists.

Lance rants to Keith that he’s missing new music releases on earth (“new Sabrina! New Chappell! By this time there’s probably even new Rihanna!”) and Keith kind of just shrugs and looks confused because the majority of his music taste is from the 2000s anyway. Keith offers to share his music with Lance so he at least has variety and at first Lance is like “oh yeah…this is something…” (while hating it) but then realizes that the Paramore that did “Ain’t It Fun” is the same Paramore that did Riot! And then he actually gets into it. In turn, he shares his music with Keith who is even more hesitant, but finds himself surprisingly drawn to the Olivia Rodrigo’s more rock leaning songs.

when they start getting Feelings for each other, Keith thinks that Sugar, We’re Going Down is Their Song, but Lance thinks it’s Naked In Mahattan. Both subtly try to slip their choices onto their hanging out playlist like the dorks they are.

[komohine]

PLSSS TELL ME AB UR JAITH HCS i love them so much and your art actively fuels me

speaking of jaith hcs i need to rework it a bit. Of course based off hit glass animals album ILYSF*M… Go listrn. Its jaith. Its straight up jaith. Specifically how i learned to love the bomb.

During their garrison days i think i established that keith was always like… consistently an asshole. Always moody and such. He sucked to be around but at least it was predictable

James. James was honestly almost worse. Unpredictable, ranging from the charming golden boy (though, still second place in ranking to keith) of their year to a violent aggressor who actively sought out keith (after keith punched him that one time) just to jump him and get some hits in himself. He never lets go of grudges, and you honestly can never tell what hes going to be like.

Even after him and keith made up nearing their graduation (so like 16-17), he would still be wildly unpredictable. Some small thing could ruin his day and nobody would know his day was ruined until his charming smile turned into shouting and hurled accusations and slamming doors.

Honestly, if it werent for the fact that james always kept it together around authority figures, he would probably be booted for disciplinary issues too. Or at least he’d be in Iverson’s office a whole lot more.

And it sucks for keith because when james wasn’t acting out, he was really, really good. To strangers, to his friends, and to keith. The definition of a charmer. Good grades, good looks, great smile, always held the door (he actually runs to hold the door for others), straight laced but knew when to let loose and have fun (he accompanied keith on almost all of his midnight adventures into the desert after they got close). Perfect. But only sometimes.

James evens out after keith left, even more so after the galra invaded. Depression can do a lot to mellow a man’s temper, and war even moreso. Keith almost misses it. Because now James is kind of a husk. At least back when James could get so angry, he could also be so happy.

[the-kriller]

My thoughts on voltron

ok guys im really bored this summer and decided to see what the hype is. Here's my thoughts on what I like so far, what I think could be improved, etc. (From someone at the start/middle of season 3)

Dedicate 1 episode to finding each lion. Or half an episode, but I wish they spaced out the lion discoveries a little more throughout the first season.

Pidge and Allura should be closer. The main interaction I saw in Season 1 between them showed different sides than we saw when any other characters interacted with either. This would also help build the feeling that Voltron is MEANT to be a team because none of them stay strictly in their little cliques

Shiro should stay dead. It raises the stakes and shows how the threat can change

However, I also think that Keith shouldn't pilot the black lion. Not yet, at least. After everything he went through in season 2, hes EXTRA moody and lashing out at everyone.

Adding on, they could have an episode where he tries to lead Voltron but his fatal flaws get in the way. He thinks everyone will want him to leave again or something, so he starts pushing everyone away so they don't get hurt. The episode could end with Keith overcoming this and actually beginning to form bonds with the other members

Allura pilots the black lion. TRUSTTT me on this. She has proven to have strong endurance and leadership skills like Shiro, but has a connection to the Galra empire through her past AND the witch Hagar. She could provide unique commentary on their issues

If in this universe her & Pidge are closer, they could have a chat where Pidge is like "Allura, you are the one who brought us together originally and you're the one who's bringing hope towards escaping the Galra empire. If anyone should be our leader, it's you princess."

LANCE GETS TREATED NICELY.

Hunk's character gets fleshed out more. Maybe there's an episode where they're on a planet, and he's trying to be nice and hospitable to the people but they just go against all of his morals and he snaps at them. As a treat

Plotlines from S1 evolve/resolve. Pidge can still be looking for their family, but that shouldn't be the main reason they're staying in Voltron. Give them something bigger to fight for.

Have a fun episode that compares & contrasts all the characters. They get stuck in a space storm and have to tell ghost stories kind of thing.

Keith would tell a lame story because he's sooo nonchalant and edgy

Lance would 100% seriously try to one up him, it would definitely work but Hunk would barf afterwards

Coran would catch onto the concept before Allura and try to tell a story about some "mysterious but suave Altean" but he would keep saying "I" instead of "he" and everyone would catch on that the story was about him. Also, he would hype himself up so much that the story would fall apart because nobody that awesome could reasonably be scared of ghosts

Allura would tell a REAL story about a haunted Altean castle which would scare everyone even more shitless

Hunk would tell a story about the Garrison in which he was sneaking out of his dorm late at night to mealprep for the next week, but the entire time he was being tormented by some quick moving, shadowy figure.

Pidge would say, "OH MY GOD" and realize that THEY were the shadowy figure. They would proceed to retell the story, in which they downloaded essential clues to Matt's whereabouts and afterwards got hunted down by a giant, hostile Garrison guard (Hunk)